Ephraim's Journal
by pennylynn
Summary: Jacob Black reads a book he never knew existed.  He learns about Ephraim, his great-grandfather, and what is means to be a Protector.  I do not own Twilight, Jacob Black or even Ephraim Black.  The storyline is mine and is for entertainment and education.
1. Chapter 1

Jacob ran through the forest, each paw thudding in rhythm. Thump, thump, thud, thud. He had left the Cullen's house, leaving Nessie for just a few hours to shower and get some clean clothes. That was about all his house was good for recently. He knew it hurt his father to have him gone so much, but it hurt Jacob more to be away from Nessie, so it was necessary.

He thought fondly of Nessie for a second too long and heard a moan in his mind. _Ugh, please Jacob. Can't you even go fifteen minutes without thinking about her? _Leah complained. As much as a shared wolf mindspace helped them each during battles, Jacob wished he could turn it off sometimes. _As do we all_, came Leah again.

Jacob decided to concentrate on the cedars and hemlocks and tan oaks that zipped past him as he ran and the constant thump, thump, thud, thud that always accompanied his running.

He broke through the last few trees to the clearing behind of his house where Jacob usually phased back to his human form. He felt the transformation take over his body, cooling and shimmering for an instant. He left the wolf mindspace and he was alone, his thoughts were all his own. He slipped into his ragged shorts, kept strapped around his ankle. The grass was soft on his bare feet, poking up between his toes.

He walked through the blackberry bushes and blooming rhododendrons. Thoughts of Nessie filled his mind completely as he only allowed them to when he was human. He could still feel her small hands grasping his fur as he ran past trees and jumped over small streams. Her bronze hair glinted in the sunlight as they ran, catching a deer to share. She was the size of a six year old and her tight curls had started to lengthen out into waves. She jumped on the deer with ferocious joy and sucked it dry quickly. Watching vampires kill creatures with a neck snap and a jugular drain still made his stomach turn, but watching Nessie was different. She was beautiful and amazing no matter what she was doing.

When she was done she sat on a large rock and Jacob had his fill of the venison. Overall, a perfect breakfast for both of them.

Jacob approached his house slowly, no need to hurry as Nessie was doing a lesson with Jasper: history. That was something Jacob didn't mind missing. As he neared the house he shared with his father and sister, he could hear Sam Uley and Jacob's father Billy in the kitchen. Something in their tone, conspiratorial almost, made Jacob stop just outside the kitchen window. Out of view, out of sight, and with the stiff salty wind coming off the ocean, out of smell.

"It's only right he have it now," Sam explained, "Now that he is an Alpha, he is the rightful heir of Ephraim and everything that Ephraim left behind."

"He's not ready, yet." Billy's voice was hard, still a little resentful but also protective. "He has not learned enough, endured enough or experienced enough. You are still the Alpha for the Wolf Protectors."

"Billy, he has learned more than you know. He has really grown up since becoming his own Alpha. I really think it is his time. Besides, I could never see what you and Ray could see. To me, it is only words," Sam placed something on the kitchen table with a thump and after a moment the front door close behind him. Sam passed by on foot, walking back to his house.

Jacob peeked through the kitchen window, and saw an old book, a Wolf Protector symbol on its cover. Jacob's father slipped the book onto his lap and wheeled himself out of Jacob's view, back to his bedroom. Jacob stood, motionless and puzzled. What was Sam trying to give to him and why was his father trying to keep it from him? He heard the clunk of wood hitting on wood. Then the wheelchair jushing across the carpet. Jacob waited until he could hear the squeak of the rubber wheels on the kitchen linoleum. He walked around the house, entering at the front door and heading toward the refrigerator.

"Hey, dad." Jacob scrounged in the fridge and found something appetizing: leftover pasta in a red sauce. Even though the Cullens were better cooks than Billy or Rachel, the faint stink of vampire never really left the plates, silverware or food. It was nice to eat food that didn't burn his nose. He grabbed a fork and leaned his back against the counter, eating the cold pasta out of the container without warming it. "What's up?"

"Not much. What's up with you, Jake?"

"Same old, same old. Patrols, trying to not kill Leah, avoiding the vampires my best friend lives with, you know. The same." Jacob smiled at his father as he shorthanded his life for humorous effect. "Thought I would come get a change of clothes and miss the history lesson Nessie is having."

"Sure, sure," he answered. "Sue is coming in a minute to bring me over to Charlie's house. Rachel is over at Paul's, but they should be home at dinner time."

"I will be gone by then. This is just a run-by-changing." Jacob stuffed another bite in his mouth and chewed it quickly for a few seconds before letting the cold tomato sauce covered pasta slip down his throat. He heard the scraping of rocks as tires drove up to the place in front of the house where cars stopped and parked. Not really a driveway, more of a rocky place where grass refused to grow. Jacob looked up and saw the Clearwater's station wagon stop and Sue climb out. "I'll help you out there," Jacob said, placing the clear plastic bowl on the counter and taking the handles behind the wheelchair.

"Thanks, Jake."

The wheelchair strained against the rocky path. Jacob pushed him to the passenger seat, Sue already there with the door open. With a little struggle, Billy placed himself in the seat, moving each leg carefully with his hands. Jacob could have lifted him up and carried him out there as easily as he carried Nessie around all day, but this was not a child. This was Billy, his father, and Billy hated feeling like an invalid. Getting into a car on his own was something he could do himself, so he insisted he do it. Jacob folded the chair and loaded it into the back of the station wagon, resting it on its side on the brown carpet. He closed the lid to the car and patted it once.

"Take good care of my old man, Sue," Jacob said looking into her window. She grinned at Jacob hesitantly. He knew she liked him better back before her children had insisted on joining his renegade pack. The Vampire Lap Dogs, Leah called herself, her brother and Jacob. Jacob gave Sue a half smile in return.

Jacob stood by the gravel, waiting until the car rounded the corner. He turned back to the faded red house, the wind blowing past his ears. The light grinding of the rocks against his bare feet woke him up to why he had returned home. He went to his bedroom and found only empty dresser drawers. With a moan he looked toward the laundry box: full with cut-off shorts and dirty socks. Jacob gathered the entire box in one swoop and headed over to the laundry room. The small room was near the back, an afterthought with a shed roof and water pipes running on the outside of the walls. Jacob opened the washer lid and was relieved to find it empty. There was nothing worse than finding Rachel's whites sitting soaking wet in the washer when laundry needed to be done.

Once the clothes were being noisily thrown around the basin, Jacob headed back to the kitchen to try to remember what he had been doing. He saw the pasta in the bowl and picked up where he left off. He was nearly to the end of the bowl when he noticed a few leather particles on the counter. A memory of the leather book appeared in his mind. A book that Billy was keeping from him.

In an instant Jacob turned toward Billy's bedroom, the plastic bowl discarded in the sink. The full sized bed was pushed tight against the wall, leaving a space around it large enough for the wheelchair. The quilt his mother made out of workshirts from several different auto repair shops was pulled up tight. There was a wool blanket with ancient patterns folded at the bottom. Next to the foot of the bed was a wooden chest, made from cedar by Jacob's maternal grandfather.

He turned around looking at the dresser with the scratched top. Jacob looked into each drawer, but each drawer was full of clothes, even a layer or two underneath the top things. No book. He looked through the tattered paperbacks and Louis L'amour novels on the bedstand. Nothing older than 1960. Finally Jacob's eyes scanned the room and rested on the chest. He went to it and opened it slowly. There were the wedding dress his mother wore, a few of her favorite baby clothes and memories she and his father shared. Jacob had seen his father looking through this box every year on Sara's birthday and their anniversary.

Off to one side, Jacob saw the book. It was at least a hundred years old, a leatherbound book, the binding hand sewn and the pages ragged.

Jacob sat down on the edge of the bed and turned the book over in his hands. The soft leather felt like his father's hands. Then he flipped through the pages. It was three quarters full, written with pen and pencil. It smelled faintly of sweat, the ocean and the faint musty smell that seeps into everything on the Washington coast. It smelled of his father's room. Jacob turned it over in his hands. The temptation was too great. He opened it and began to read the messy, childish handwriting.

The first page had one name written on it, then crossed off and another name written below it.

Tah-yat'l

Ephraim Black

**Sept 1, 1885**

This is Stoopid.

stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid

**Sept 2**

Mr. Smith says my journal is not stupid and he says yusterday doesn't count. I say it would be easy to write more if he did not hit my hand. He hit my other hand for that. Levi laffed and kept reading.

yesterday yesterday yesterday yesterday yesterday yesterday yesterday yesterday yesterday yesterday

laughed laughed laughed laughed laughed laughed laughed laughed laughed laughed

**Sept 3**

They call me Ephraim. But it is not my name. My father named me Tah-yat'l. But Mr. Smith will not call me that. He says I need a civlised name. But they cannot say it like he does, so the other kids call me Efrait. I box their ears, but they do not stop. They cannot make the MMMMM sound.

civilized civilized civilized civilized civilized civilized civilized civilized civilized civilized

**Sept 4**

No school tomorrow. Levi and I will hunt. My arrow is faster than his.

**Sept 7**

Mr. Smith calls it weekend. I call it my real life. Levi and I hunt deer. I shot two arrows before he shot one. Mother was proud and even Father smiled when he saw how many antlers it had. My mother and sisters made it for dinner and dried more for winter. Father and I started to prepare the skin for a blanket. He says my 15 years means now I am a man.

**Sept 8**

I have been at this school for 3 years and still Mr. Smith says I need to go more. That is why he gave me this journal. He thinks that writing is impornt. But writing will not feed my sisters at home and writing will not make the pale-faces leave.

important important important important important important important important important important

**Sept 9**

Levi and I found a bur on the way to school. I hid it in my hand until Mr. Smith was helping a little kid on the other side of the room. I slipped up to his chair and hid the bur where his butt would hit it. Levi laughed and I almost got caught. Good thing I am fast. Mr. Smith did not think it was funny. His pants now have a hole in them and we can see his gray underthings. His clothes are so fragile. A small bur would never rip a hole in my father's clothes. His elk armor will even stop an arrow. But he does not wear that everyday. His ermine leggings and loin cloth are enough. I wore mine on my first day to school and Mr. Smith told me to leave until I was wearing britches. Father said I did not have to return. Mr. Smith came to my house with a pair of britches and a white shirt a week later. Father scowled.

**Sept 10 **

It has rained all week. If it keeps up, we will fish for summer coho. I would rather hunt with arrows. Father says the deer come and go. The ocean will always feed us.

**Sept 11**

Father and Uncle Kal'ha went sealing yesterday and came home with one seal each. I remember a time when so many were caught they hardly fit in their canoe. But things change and guns and spears cast by white men make seals sink so many are lost. We had seal for dinner and probably will have more tonight. Levi and I do not need to fish now. Father says no more deer but Levi is begging to hunt. Mother says I have to take my sisters to find bear grass for her baskets. Maybe Levi will come.

**Oct 17**

This is a wolf journal. You had better be a wolf if you are reading this.

Finally I have a reason to write. I have not been to school since my last entry. My father told Mr. Smith I would not return. He brought this journal home. Mr. Smith tried to find me but I have been in the woods for weeks now. I did not look like myself.

Levi and I took Tobt'a and Ptle'la into the woods where I knew the bear grass would be. The cedars grew up tall and the wind cast their wonderful scent into the air, surrounding the clearing. One large spruce tree stood like a sentinel. My sisters were young, only 10 and 7. But Tobt'a has been pulling bear grass for years, so they would be fine doing the women's work. Levi and I climbed and jumped around the trees. He runs faster than I do and I keep trying to change that. We were 50 feet away from the girls when we heard Tobt'a scream. She knows better than to scream with nothing wrong, so Levi and I rushed back.

Levi stopped and started shaking as soon as he got to the clearing where the girls were. Over his shoulder I saw a white man leaning over my Ptle'la. She looked pale and blood was dripping from his mouth. Lifeless. Before I could understand what had happened, I was shaking and then I leaped forward and grabbed the man's shoulder with my teeth. It would have been useless except I noticed my teeth were sharp and at the end of a wolf snout. In a moment, another wolf was at my side, ripping the man's arm. I could hear Levi in my mind.

_Damn Cold One._

I gasped and froze. But then I understood. Legends passed down from grandfathers had told us about the cold ones who drink blood. Some of our people thought the pale-faces were cold ones when they first arrived, pale as a lily. But soon they were revealed to be a different kind of threat. But here in front of me was a real cold one. Cold and hard, a chunk in my mouth began to ooze and I threw it aside. Levi had removed another arm so I launched myself into his legs, ripping them off at the thigh.

There was fear in Tobt'a's eyes as she gathered up the lifeless body of our little sister and scooted away.

Levi and I continued, until only a stump with a head remained. His red eyes closed in pain. The screaming from the cold one's mouth did not make me feel better. Revenge was not complete. The cold one's stumpy body flailed slightly, moving toward an arm.

_Fire,_ Levi thought and I knew he was right. We needed fire or the bloodsucker would re-form. But my paws were useless. Levi's eyes shot around the forest. I could still hear my little sister sobbing.

One of us needed to be human again. I strained to remember that part of the story. Was there a chant? A ritual? What was I supposed to do?

_Where are you? _My father's voice rang in my head as though he were next to me.

_In the shadows of the Big Spruce, the meadow with the bear grass_, I thought immediately, relieved that perhaps my father knew what to do.

_Yes_, he answered my unspoken question, _I will be right there_.

Levi growled at the cold one and grabbed his disconnected arm in his mouth, throwing it further away. The arm had been trying to return.

I looked over at Tobt'a and Ptle'la's body in her arms and knew that my cheerful little sister would never be the same. Her face was tear-ridden and smeared with blood. My family blood. A growl formed in my throat and I tore into the cold one again, separating every inch of its body I could get a hold of. The flesh flew in every direction like rocks thrown into a pond all at once.

_Enough_. My father entered the clearing, a large spruce-bark colored Wolf. In an instant the fur pulled back and he was standing there before me, his black eyes flashing. "Step away, Tah-yat'l."

I felt a shiver go through my body and my head bowed to the ground. I backed up slowly, not having a choice in the matter. I did not quite understand the power that made me obey, but I could not rebel. My father was fast, gathering dry needles and leaves then quickly rubbing two sticks together in their midst. The kindling smoked, then caught fire. He added bigger sticks and soon the fire was large enough for the job. He grabbed the stumpy cold one and threw it in the fire. One last scream and the only sound was the crackling of the fire and the sobbing of my sister.

He instructed us to gather the parts of the cold one and throw them in the fire. "Do not miss a single scrap."

He turned and walked past the fire now spewing a new smell and purple smoke. He gathered his daughters in his arms cradling them together and turned back towards us. "I will be back. Stay here until then." I saw a tear glint near his eye as he ran to the village.

Levi and I gathered bits and pieces and sat down to watch and wait. His fur was black like his hair and shiny in the sun. I looked down at myself and realized I was a rich brown with a white belly. _Of course_, I thought, _I become a ferocious wolf and I still look cuddly._

_This is weird, right? _I said, wanting to get our thoughts away from the flickering fire.

_Weird like fated or weird like magic or weird like strange?_

I was silent for a moment. He was not laughing. He was somber and thinking about all the things he couldn't do if he were a wolf. No hands for hugging or fishing. No arrows, no family life. _I guess all three_. I was silent again. He didn't seem to want any company.

We felt someone join us in our minds again. _I am on my way back_. My father sprinted past the trees covered in moss and the paths women and children used to gather berries and grasses. I could see him remembering the run into the village and to our longhouse. Mother looked up with a start and then scurried to his side. She took little Ptle''la and laid her on the floor, tears flowing from her eyes. He stroked back the hair of Tobt'a as she stared blankly at the roof above her sleep platform, her cedar bark dress covered in dirt and blood. My heart broke with his.

The memory ended as he jumped into the clearing with us. He examined the area, sniffing each clump of bear grass and each spruce needle. He found a few more chunks of cold one and tossed them in the receding fire. Finally satisfied that the entire creature was destroyed, he turned to us.

_Welcome to the life of the Protector. There is much to do_. With that, he led us deeper into the woods, the scent of incense behind us.


	2. Chapter 2

Jacob's head jerked up in surprise. After he read the first few entries, the words disappeared and he was surrounded by the woods and the bear grass his great-grandfather spoke of. He was no longer reading an ancient journal; he was living it. He looked around his father's room. He had not gone anywhere and the daylight outside the window was the same as before. The clouds shifted and the sun was blocked. Jacob turned the page and continued to read.

**Oct 18, 1885**

I missed my sister's funeral three weeks ago. They wrapped her in doghair blankets and buried her on St. James Island. She is the daughter of a chief, after all. Perhaps I will be there for her reburial. I was too angry this time. I watched from the woods, pawing at the ground and hating the fact that the animal still controlled me.

Levi was able to phase back first. My father told us how to think human thoughts, like our families and the things we love. My thoughts always brought me back to my sister and then the anger would boil up again. I struggled for a long time.

_You can do this, Tah-yat'l_. My father spoke in my head. I had been trying for two weeks, trying to force a change to my being. I wanted to be human again, to see my mother and sisters. No sister, now. I lost one. I was too slow and I lost my sister to the clutches of a cold one. My blood boiled and I could almost hear it hiss in my ears. My father's thoughts reined me back in. _Your mother is worried about you. And she is making your favorite seal fritters for dinner._ Food. How I missed cooked food. Raw rabbit and ermine only go so far. I concentrated on my mother bent over the fire in our longhouse cooking the fritters and I felt my shoulders relax. I imagined the delicious smell and the warmth of my family around me. Grandma in the corner weaving cedar bark into skirts. Auntie with a wool blanket over her knees, her hands shriveled in pain. Uncle Kal'ha with a seal skin stretched out in front of him, preparing to make a new pair of gloves. My fur began to recede and my skin took over. I was on the ground, naked, but a man.

My father tossed me my leggings and the loincloth he carried in his mouth. Levi stood nearby, waiting. I put on the loincloth, but avoided the leggings. I was warm enough as it was, no need for fall clothes. My father regained his human form and removed a leather bundle from his ankle.

"You are going to need to get a leather strap to keep your clothes with you when you phase," he said as he got dressed. My mouth popped open. Now that I thought about it, he always wore a leather strap around his ankle. Levi's dad did too until a few years ago.

"Is his dad a wolf too?" The question came out before I could think about it.

"We are not wolves. We shift to our spirit warrior form when there is danger from cold ones. The wolves are our brothers. But yes, Joe Uley was able to shift as well. He stopped after his youngest daughter was born. He said he needed to concentrate on family. I was the only one left in the pack until now.

"We defend our tribe and other humans from the cold ones who want nothing more than to suck the life out of every person they encounter. Their numbers have increased in the last twenty years. I used to go decades between killings. Now it seems every few years…."

His voice trailed off and I thought back to the increase of deaths we had experienced in the last few years. Young children, men and women had been dying of diseases and animal accidents. I wondered how many of those were actually deaths at the hands of these bloodsucking enemies.

"You must keep the secret. Your mother knows, as does your sister Tobt'a now, but you must tell no one else without the approval of the pack." Father looked up at Levi. "Your parents know about the pack. Have you told them about your transformation?"

"No. They know I was with Ephraim when Ptle''la died but they do not know anything else."

He hung his head. He was a serious boy, I thought to myself, surprised I had not noticed before. He was always reading and thinking, but my antics pulled him into laughter every time. His seriousness made him look older now, wiser than I felt as memories ran through my head faster than I could understand them: Levi reading at school; my sisters gathering berries near the stream while Levi and I snuck up behind them with water in a woven cedar basket; leaving a pile of leaves outside the doors of the cute girls in the village. Levi was next to me for all these things, but the pranks were my idea. I wondered how different he would have been with a different friend. A more serious friend who cared about books and scraps of writing the way he did.

"I will go with you to tell them. It goes easier that way. Tah-yat'l come with us, but wait by the longhouse until we are done. Do not go inside without me." My father took charge and led us back down to the village.

I leaned against the wall of the Uley longhouse, listening to each word of explanation. The ocean billowed and sparkled in the few places the sun hit it. I looked up to notice that only a few flecks of blue peeked out from the clouds. It did not look like a rainy day, but there would certainly be a very little sun. A breeze brought a salty smell to my nose and I realized I could also detect sea life in the air: salmon, steelhead, seals, even the whale in the distance had a distinct smell to my nose.

Father exited the Uley longhouse and we turned toward our own. I could hear Mother cutting up seal, then poking the fire with a stick. I had missed these human things over the last weeks.

"Remain calm," my father commanded. I felt a shiver through me again. It was an order from the alpha. He pulled back the wool blanket hung at the door of the longhouse and ducked in first. I took a deep breath and tried to imagine what would happen next.

Tobt'a saw father first and looked back down at the wool blanket wrapped around her shoulders and head. She shivered slightly at the wind from the shifting door. I could no longer feel anger, so I finally felt sad. Sad for all the experiences that would now be tainted with memoires of a missing sister. All the things that Tobt'a would avoid or choose because she saw too much too young.

Father's voice broke my line of thought. "Tah-yat'l is now part of the Tlokwali_._ Come, brother, greet the new member of the wolf ritual." My uncle complied, followed by my mother. I could tell she had been crying, but she put on her brave face.

"Welcome home, my son."

Tobt'a turned to look at me. She was not afraid, but she did not look happy either. The life and joy had drained out of her eyes two weeks ago as she sat next to bear grass and held her sister. I walked over to her next and reached out to stroke her head.

**Oct 29**

Levi and I don't go to school anymore. Father has insisted we go with him everywhere. He has brought us spear fishing, sealing and arrow hunting. No matter where we are, he tells us the stories of the wolves. The story of Taha-Aki and his battles with vampires, his special connection with his third wife, and the stories of his sons who defended the tribe from generation to generation, passing on the knowledge through legends and songs. We listened carefully, learning how to destroy a cold one head on and how to fight more than one enemy at a time.

_Cold ones have been more frequent in the last few years_, Father thought as we ran along the cliff line near First Beach. Even in wolf form Levi was faster than me and easily led my father as well. _I think it is because the pale-faces have come and made travel so much easier. When I was in Port Angeles last several years ago, people were all talking about a large metal transport called a train that is fast and brings people from out east all the way to the Columbia River. It is not here yet, but it could be soon._

I thought of our secluded paradise next to the Great Ocean and wondered how long it would stay so isolated. Our chief had been forced to sign a treaty agreeing to leave our land 30 years ago, but no one had come to enforce it. Roads did not reach our village. Men take canoes to gather supplies from the big villages and to trade with the white people. Cold ones were not the only things from which my father had to protect us.

**Nov 25, 1886**

I have decided this journal will be for recording cold one battles and other things the pack needs to remember. My father never kept a record like this and although he has shared a few things, I wish he had more stories. The next alpha will have my stories.

We encountered another cold one today. We were hunting bear when Levi, Father and I sniffed something sweet and acidic. I quickly stripped down and tucked my loincloth around my ankle the way we had been practicing and within seconds I was on all four paws. Father was already there in my mind. _Go to the right. Levi, to the left. _ We rushed forward towards the smell, seeking to triangulate the blood drinker between us as we had with a bear yesterday.

Despite the thick fog, the smell got stronger and I could hear steady footfalls walking towards me. Our presence either was not noticed or was not feared. I was going to be sure to change that. I saw the cold one in the same moment that she saw me. She wore a long skirt, with a flounce in the back and the waist pulled in so tight I wondered how she could breathe. Then I remembered: she didn't. Her hair was brown and piled up high on her head with sweet curls escaping around the edges. I almost thought of how pretty she was, but then I remembered what she was as I leaped forward without hesitation.

It was obvious from her reaction that she had never seen a wolf or any other creature quite as large and vicious as I was. Her black eyes flared as she turned around and began to run. I landed on the ground, right where she had been just a moment ago. I saw Father and Levi burst through the trees and we all began the pursuit. She was fast, but I knew I could catch her. I was built for this. I was made to destroy this evil creature.

Her tiny, high-heeled boots should have gotten caught on a root, but she was graceful and avoided every obstacle and tree, zipping and zagging through the woods, heading towards the old prairie upstream where a white family and their friends now had cows and trees. I couldn't stand the thought of letting this cold one kill a resident of that village anymore than I could let her get near my village. I surged forward quickly, caught her back with my front paws and brought her to the ground.

_Keep away from her mouth, keep away from her mouth_, Levi and I chanted in our minds, repeating the lesson Father had taught us. One bite from a cold one could kill me. I gouged her back with my claws and teeth, shredding her dress and cold white skin. Father arrived next and grabbed onto a flailing arm with his speckled tan and brown snout. In an instant, he ripped it off and threw it into a space between some trees. Limb by limb the cold one shrank until she was a pile of parts and fabric. I hesitated to move from my place on what was left of her back until a fire was started. Levi understood and phased back into human form to gather kindling and fuel.

_My second cold one. _It was easier this time, and not just physically. I felt satisfied and vindicated, feelings that has been pushed out by anger and revenge the last time. As the flames built and my wolf father and human friend began to gather and toss parts into it, I grabbed the growling and flailing body and dragged it toward the fire. It entered with a slight sizzle and then a purple thick smoke filled the air. We scrounged the area sniffing out pieces small and large, filling the fire with things that should not be. An abomination. A blot on our world. An enemy that brought out the worst in us.

**May 5, 1887**

It has been almost two years since we saw a cold one. Until today. The closeness of the last two events made us wonder if those two cold ones were mates, linked together in a way similar to the two cold ones that killed Taha Aki and most of his sons. But this time, there was no doubt.

It was twilight, that magical time when the sun had sunk into the ocean and the light had receded from the trees and meadows. Clouds reflected the soft colors around them. Usually I am home at this time, basking in the family love of the longhouse, watching each family member do a quiet activity, or talk about the day's activities. Tobt'a was not enjoying school and was hoping to talk our parents into letting her do something else, like joining the married women in cedar bark gathering or joining Father in his seal hunt. I smirked at her ideas. I was seventeen and only doing my second seal hunt. She was only twelve. And a girl. A seal hunt was definitely not in her future. Rather than hear my mother explain to her again how school would help her in the future and how writing and math were important to someone who needed to learn to trade with the pale faces one day, I decided to take an evening run.

I quickly phased into a big brown and white wolf and began to run through the cedar and spruce trees, accelerating to my fastest for fun. The moss dangled off the branches of almost every tree and I leaped up and swatted some with a paw. Then I heard it. Laughter. Glorious joyful laughter. I turned my head in its direction and caught the sickly sweet smell of cold ones. Two separate smells, one heavier than the other.

I froze for a second. Should I go get my father or Levi or should I try to do this on my own? Should I just howl a warning? What if that scared the cold ones away? Suddenly I feared my indecision would cause them to slip past me and get to the village. Surely they would not recognize the howl as anything suspicious - nothing two hard bloodthirsty creatures need fear. With an ear pointed at the direction of the laughter and now quieter scraping sounds, I let out a warning.

A few beats later and Levi and Father both joined me in my head.

_I'm down south_, I instructed, n_early to Clearwater River. Hurry, there are two of them. _

They broke into a run and I decided to sneak forward to get an undetected visual on the cold ones before the rest of the pack arrived.

They were in a clearing, the moonlight of early evening glinting on their skin. Yes, their skin. Both cold ones were naked and involved in lovemaking. They were both blond, their hair dirtied by the grass and soil that surrounded them. She laughed again with the most musical sound imaginable.

_Oh damn_, Levi's thoughts echoed my own. _Stop watching, that is gross. I don't want to see naked cold ones. Come on._

I backed up slightly so I could no longer see them, but every sound- moan, laugh, growl and plea- reverberated in my mind.

_We are almost there_, my father assured me.

A part of me wished I had not called them quite so quickly. Father explained the plan: fighting two cold ones was much more dangerous because one could attack from the back if we let our guard down. We were counting on their current situation to distract them long enough to finish them off.

I had never seen a woman naked before and I wished the first I had seen had not been a cold one. But I reminded myself that she was not a woman, but instead a blood thirsty cold one intent on decimating life with every turn.

_Okay. Son, you need to check. Who is on top?_

My father needed to know so he could figure out which of us would take which cold one. As he thought it, I heard their bodies shift and flip. I was confident the man was now on top, but felt I should double check. With one eye closed, I peeked through the foliage and confirmed it.

_He is. _

_OK_, my alpha and father thought. _You and Levi each take one of his arms, I will rip her head off first thing._ The hair on my back stood up as I heard the other two wolves quickly approach. Still running, my father counted down. _5, 4, 3, 2, 1.._.

I leaped into the clearing at the same time they did, quickly finishing off the two cold ones.

**March 1, 1888**

We found a cold one pretending to be a trapper. Levi and I took care of him.

He was hiding behind a tree.

_Sneaky this one_, I thought.

And we almost missed his smell too. From 500 yards away, usually not a hard thing to smell. But it has been raining for three days straight. Not a hard rain, just the constant drizzle that feeds the forest and confuses animal and human trails alike. But even rain could not completely hide the sickly sweetness coming from the killer Levi motioned toward. It was a cherry cordial smell, but mixed with something stinging, like a jellyfish sting. We put our bows down and let the wolf take over. Once our minds were mixed, planning was easier.

_I think we can handle him, _I thought_._

_Oh definitely, _Levi agreed. _There are a lot of trees between us and him. I don't want him to get much closer to the village, though. _

I suddenly wished I was better at strategy. I blinked the rain away, not wanting my vision to be too wet. _So sneaking up from behind might take too long and a frontal attack he would see coming. _Sounded like Levi wasn't too good at strategy either. _Hey, I can hear your thoughts, remember?_

_How could I forget? _ I countered. _I think we should go for a side attack. You run fast to the left and I will slip up to him from the right. Remember what Father said about the teeth._ I doubted either of us would soon forget that warning. A horrible death resulted from even a small bite for one of us.

Running never felt better than when I was in wolf form heading toward my destiny, seeing the death of another cold one. My paws splooshed into some mud as I dodged a tree and found myself almost parallel with the hiding cold one. Levi was nearby too. He crashed through some bushes and made a noise loud enough to grab the cold one's attention. A distraction. I saw my opportunity and leaped out from behind a spruce as crashed into his side, paws sinking into his shoulder. It made an awful sound, metallic and accompanied by a scream. The metal traps in his hand fell to the ground. I sunk my teeth into the scratched arm and yanked up, removing his arm. Levi was there in an instant, quickly separating the legs from their joints. Soon the cold one was a pile of dirty clothes and white limbs.

I shifted back to human form and threw on my loincloth. We had been practicing fires and I had one made almost as fast as my father had the first day we fought a cold one. Levi paced around the body, ensuring that nothing was missing from the smoking pile.

**Feb 28, 1889**

No cold one activity to report, but I decided I needed to list some tribal history as well, so future packs will understand more than just how to kill cold ones but also why we do it.

After thirty years of waiting, a president of the pale faces finally gave us our own land back for a "reservation." They had ordered us to relocate to a southern reservation years ago, but we refused. It is nice to know that no one can force us to leave now.

**Sep 30, 1889**

We went to the hop fields in the far north this month. Almost all 270 tribe members. Usually a half of us stay behind, but with our land safe from the pale ones and their government, Father decided it would be a celebration for us to all go, except those old and too weak to travel.

We returned last night. My nose instantly burned. First from the sweet smell of a cold one, then from charred wood. I ran the last two miles to our village to find it destroyed. All 26 longhouses were torched. I ran in and out of char pits wondering how this had happened, why someone had done this. The smell of cold ones hovered over the charred smell. They came later, hoping for a quick meal, I bet. The fire was started by a pale face. The fire destroyed the tribe's fishing equipment, baskets, carvings, and sacred regalia. Everything was destroyed. Nothing was left but the traveling things we had taken with us.

One name popped into my mind. Dan Pullen. He had a big wooden house close to here, almost on our reservation. He and his brother did logging and fur trapping and they had harassing our tribe. He even tried to bring my father to a court trial, claiming to have rights to our land.

It was then that I noticed the grass seed spread out in the places where our homes used to be. A few adventurous strands were even starting to poke up through the ground, dotting it with fresh green sprouts. A thick barbed wire fence ran around the entire perimeter of the village. The rest of the tribe arrived then, gawking from the other side of the fence. I must have stepped over it without noticing.

From the look in my father's eyes, I knew this would not stand. Just then, Dan and Martin Pullen came toward us from his house further east. They had their shotguns out and the look of determination on Dan's face was undeniable.

"Get off my land," he bellowed without any irony.

My blood boiled. I could tell from the eyes of my tribe that I was not alone. But my father held his hand down to calm our anger.

"We will build at the ocean," he said, as calm as the rain that misted down around us.

The Indian agent, John P. McGlinn obtained lumber for us and we built new houses, ones that we knew could get washed away in a large storm.

This was temporary.

**May 12, 1898**

We have been living on the coast for almost nine years. A hunter was killed by a cold one.

Our village was by the mouth of the river where the river flows wide into the ocean. Each January, we fished steelhead and each April we gathered berries. The seasons slipped by. Father, Levi and I ran through the woods, ensuring everyone was safe. Once Levi said it was futile, which he told me means pointless. I wondered why he didn't just say pointless.

Levi became a judge on our reservation, making wise decisions for minor crimes in the tribe. But he also helped our lawyers defend us in the case against the Pullens. It had been five years since Dan Pullen was given an eviction notice, but he had remained. He had opened a general store on our land. We did not shop there.

We received notice that Dan Pullen's case was rejected by the president's man and he will be gone by summer. To Alaska if his son is to be believed. Danny told the twelve year olds at the school that they had to move because the land here was too wet and they couldn't raise hay and vegetables like his dad wanted to. Yeah, that's why.

Father stopped phasing and ceased to be alpha last summer. Once he told me, I felt a change in me that began at my feet and reached my hat. He did not phase again and his face is finally starting to age, just a little bit.

As I ran from one edge of the woods surrounding our village to the other, I encountered the smell of a man from the village, Big Joe, out hunting alone. I ran around the trees, avoiding being seen or heard by him. He was at the bottom of a ravine, and a large wolf above him would not be a good thing to see.

As I ran on, I found a cold one trail. It was several hours old, and stopped at the foot of a large cedar. I put my paws as high up on the tree as I could and sniffed deeply. Sure enough, the cold one had climbed a tree. I scanned the tree tops in both directions, hoping to catch a glimpse. The forest took on a silence I did not enjoy. The birds and insects all took a break at the same time. I heard a sudden crash far away.

Jumping down from the tree trunk, I turned and ran toward the sound. The sweet painful smell of the cold one became stronger as I returned to the ravine where I had seen the hunter. His arrows were strewn across the ground and his body lay in a broken heap. The cold one was nowhere to be seen.

I leaped down the ravine, jumping around small trees and through bushes and fallen branches. Next to the fallen hunter, the smell was even stronger. It veered down the ravine away from the village. I let out a loud howl, hoping Levi would join me soon. And then I started to run. I chased after the smell of the cold one until it disappeared again. I began to smell the trees closer when Levi joined me in my mind.

_I think I lost it_, I moaned. _I can't smell it anywhere._

_I am coming, maybe we can find it together_, Levi replied. But when he arrived, the trail was lost to him too. As though the cold one had jumped higher than we could reach and had travelled exclusively by tree for miles. We searched for hours before returning to human form and carrying the dead hunter back to his family.


	3. Chapter 3

**June 6, 1898**

We took a longboat to Port Angeles for trading. It took us three3 days each way. We needed more clothing and material. Now all the children wear pale face clothing and most of the adults do as well. I rode with old man Payne and the Atearas: Quil and his big sister, Maggie. Quil is only eighteen18 and Maggie is twenty20. I learned something important about her. I also destroyed a cold one in an alley.

I needed new pants and decided it was time to buy some made of denim or wool. But that would mean buying material to make underthings as well. I was not excited about having my mother make these for me, but it was better than asking Tobt'a, who is now married and expecting her first baby. As I rowed the canoe with Quil, I realized the underthings issue would be easier if I were married.

I was twenty-nine29, certainly old enough to be married. The shifting to wolf form seems to have slowed down my aging, though. I doid not look a day over twenty-three23.

I had not thought about marriage until then, not because of a lack of choices;: there were many very pretty girls in our village. More than in the Makah village, for sure. Levi had married Sarah Payne five years ago and although she knows he hunts with me when he is not working in the tribal courts, I am not sure she knows he can phase into wolf form. How does someone bring that up anyway? 'Oh, by the way I can become a wolf if I ever need to' doesn't work its way into polite conversation.

I guess I had not thought about marriage because I kept pretty busy. My father and I had been hunting seal and deer and I even went with him on several whale hunts. As alpha, I also felt responsible for the whole village and ran the perimeter of our reservation every day, though not always at the same time. All the running had been great for my physique, though.

Paddling always gave me time to think. I sat in the back of the canoe, acting as oarsman. As long as we were heading straight, I switched back and forth: Three strokes. Switch. Three Strokes. Switch.

We left for Port Angeles yesterday morning before the sun was up. The tide was high and the ocean was trying to be calm. Summer had that effect on it. Things like wind and rain slowed down ever so slightly, leaving us time to take trips. The Makah allow us to stay at their fishing stop when we are coanoeingcanoeing this way. Taboosh Island is at the tip of the peninsula and just on the way to Port Angeles. We had little to trade now, but the Makah knew we would come back from the pale face city with many things we cannot make in our villages. Our tribes have been peaceful for generations.

The ocean was predictable today,. Nnot calm exactly, but not rough. The sky has half-hidden in clouds, but the sun was fighting back. It danced on the waves as we moved along at a steady pace. Old man Payne and his wife sat up front, with Quil next. Maggie sat between her brother and I, her black hair in a thick braid down her back. This canoe would easily hold three times this many people. But now the canoe is nearly filled with seal pelts and refined oil. Although the Makahs cannot use it, as their own men catch all the seal they need, the pale faces in Port Angeles give a good price for it.

Three strokes. Switch. Three Strokes. Switch. The salty air felt good in my lungs, familiar and cool.

Maggie turned around abruptly. "What do you think, Ephraim?" she asked suddenly.

I blinked. "I'm sorry. What?" I asked.

Her brown eyes were focused on mine. She looked expectant but then disappointed that I had not been following the conversation.

"Quil here thinks we should catch some fish now to eat when we reach Clallam Bay. I think they will make the whole canoe smell bad and I would rather eat the smoked salmon we brought with us. I don't like smelt without thimbleberries. What do you think?" Her hands were folded in the lap of her loose checkered dress. It was splattered with ocean drops, thrown up by our paddles at every stroke, making some parts a darker blue than others.

"I would rather have the salmon. Fishing now would mess up our rhythm,." I said, trying not to break the steady pull and then the switching as I paddled on the other side.

Three strokes. Switch. Three Strokes. Switch.

There was a beach lined with trees on my right and the ocean stretched out as far as I could see to the left. Maggie was still looking at me, the sun catching on the small round shells that hung from her ear lobes. I guess she thought I had more to say.

"Quil is probably just hungry. It is almost lunchtime."

"Oh, it doesn't need to be lunchtime for Quil. He is always hungry. I think that is why he is taller than Father now," Maggie mused.

"A paddleman must eat," I replied.

She turned around and reported back to Quil. "See, Ephraim agrees. We should eat the salmon."

Asdf "Yeah, but he also said it was time for lunch," Quil countered.

Maggie paused for a moment,; probably rolling her eyes. "Sure, sure," she said, reaching down into the baskets to pull out some lunch.

We reached Tatoosh Island just before sunset. The sky was white with layers of color sneaking up from the west. There were a few Makah fishermen, there, their tents white triangles against the sand. We slept on the beach, with the canoe pulled up out of the way and tethered to a tree with whale-tendon rope. I realized that the two dozen words I spoke to Maggie today were probably the most in a row I had ever said to her. When I left school she was just starting. I looked up at the stars and realized how distant I felt from the rest of the tribe. Here I was their Protector, and all I knew about most of my villagers was their names. I wondered if thimbleberries were Maggie's favorite berries or just the ones she liked with smelt. Was blue her favorite color or just the color of the dress she wore today? My eyes drifted closed, filled with questions about the Ateara girl I knew so little about.

We arrived in Port Angeles Tuesday night,: too late to do any shopping or trading. We brought our canoes to rest on the west side of the city., Tthe lighthouse had guided us in. We gathered our blankets from the canoe. We checked in at a hotel downtown,; one with two floors and a covered porch and a law office on the bottom floor. It was nearly a decade old, but would keep the rain off and the thieves away. This was the first time I had been to Port Angeles since I became a wolf pProtector. Levi assured me he would run the borders of our land while I was gone, but I could not help thinking about the fact that I might be needed on the reservation.

"Let's go for a walk. My legs feel stiff," Maggie suggested.

"I don't think that is such a great idea. It's pretty dark out there."

Quil voiced my fears. There weare too many unknown people in a town this size to just start wandering around. Plus cities this size attract undesirables,. v Vagabonds and vVagrants. And maybe… It only madkes sense to go to where there is a plentiful food source. We seek out fish as they migrate to our waters. Why would cold ones be any different? Surely a bigger city would have more of a pull for someone who feeds on humans. At 2,000 people, Port Angeles was ten times as big as the village.

"Come on! There are gas lamps all the way down this street. Just a quick walk down and we can come right back."

I did not have much experience saying no to girls. I always made sure Tobt'a got everything she wanted. It didn't make my guilt go away completely, but it helped a little.

Asdf "OkayK," I conceded, "jJust down the street and back."

The dirt street was indeed lit, but each gas lamp barely put out enough light to reach the ground below it. I was grateful for eyes that could see in the dark. Maggie grabbed hold of her brother's arm and headed down the street away from the docks. Her red dress with tiny white flowers swished as she almost sauntered down the street. I followed behind them, unwilling to let them go alone but not really wanting to be there either.

It had rained in the afternoon as we paddled here and the wooden sidewalks glistened with the leftover puddles. They were shallow enough they did not need to be avoided, but the sound of our feet made a little splashing sound. Soon we came to the end of the street. Good to her word, Maggie turned around. She shot me a smile and walked past me, Quil on the other side. We walked back to the hotel and turned in for the night.

The Paynes planned to do most of the trading. He was our best sealer and had traded with the seal men here for years. We waited at the hotel until the Paynes returned from the trading post. The fog rolled in off the ocean, giving everything a fuzzy white glow. The sky was white but dry. It probably would not rain for at least a few hours, but no sun either. The Paynes returned from seal bartering and gave us each our portion of the sale. Most of it he brought back to the tribe, but each of us had been asked to get things for our families and others back at the village.

Quil and Maggie wanted to buy cloth and clothing, too, so we set off the three of us together again. Maggie insisted quite loudly that Quil wear his best shirt, even though it was getting tight. I had brought my only cotton shirt and an old pair of boots my dad loaned me. I preferred the leather shoes we make in the village, but when we are in town it helps to look the part of the pale faces. You get better trades if they respect you. Maggie understood that better than anyone. She even had her hair piled high on her head instead of braided. It was pretty but I decided I liked it better down in a braid.

We went first to the clothing merchant. I found a good pair of brown pants and a pair made of denim. Quil laughed and tried to talk me into buying a checkered suit. But neither of us could think of why I would need a suit, so he just chose brown pants as well and we turned to find Maggie. In her arms were several finished dresses and folded piles of material in different colors and patterns.

"Can I hold some?" I asked, thinking it the polite thing to do since I only had two pairs of pants in my arms.

"Oh, don't do that," Quil teased. "As soon as you help her once she'll expect you to help every time." His eyes smiled with love and joviality. He had allowed himself to be her hanging rack many times.

Asdf "Oh you, stop, or I will only buy you pink shirt fabric," Maggie countered. She grinned back at him and dumped the cloth in my arms. She turned back to the racks of clothing and continued with her choices until she insisted Quil help as well. She directed us both over to the merchant's counter.

"Hello," Maggie greeted the man at the counter with respect. The man smiled at her,. sSlightly wary. He was wearing a rounded hat and a black cravat.

"Hello, Miss. Cloth and dressesd today?" The man slowly motioned Quil forward.

"Yes, thank you.," Maggie arranged the purchases on the counter with finished dresses at one end and the still neat piles of cloth on the other. She pulled out her Sun and Moon purse, crocheted at the school sewing class, and let the silver dollars in it clink together as she placed it on the counter. Then she continued, "This dress seems to have a problem with the hem. I expect half off for that." Her fingers found the flaw and showed it to the owner.

"How about a third off?" the man said. He was slightly surprised by her request, but it was something he was used to doing, and he quickly recovered.

"Deal. But the fabric piles have smudges along the lower edges. I need a third off of each of these as well."

"10 percent," tThe shop owner countered and Maggie nodded. He totaled the purchase and Maggie dug into her purse, pulling out silver dollars and paper money with old men and white women in flowing gowns not suited to our era. The till rang out like a bell as the money was hidden inside the large wood and glass machine with round metal buttons. The shop owner quickly folded the dresses and tied all her purchases up into five5 separate bundles.

The man behind the counter turned expectantly at me and I pushed the two pairs of pants and few yards of white muslin up onto the counter. I did not try to barter and he did not offer. I couldn't have fixed a broken hem if I had found one.

I was amazed at the skill with which Maggie had interacted with the shop owner. She was bold and yet kind. She made it clear why women were the ones in charge of bartering in our tribe. Until the pale faces demanded our men trade with them. But still amongst the tribes and obviously here when dealing with clothing and women's things, women still were the people our tribe preferred to be the ones trading.

We took our bundles back to our hotel. Then Maggie followed her brother and me out to the lumberyard and hardware store.

Although lumber for our houses could usually be gotten from our own woods, tools and things like nails and other tools were best bought. We also bought steel knives and spearheads. Plus paint. Our homes right on the coast had been taking a beating that they never took when our village was inland by the river. Many people had taken to painting the trim around windows and doors white. I had agreed to get another bucket of the stuff.

As I wandered around the store, I caught sight of the match section. Wooden matches were an increasingly necessary staple in the village because they would light kindling even if it was a little damp, a real possibility during the winter months. But that day I saw something new. "Flexibles" the package read. Thin little matches in a cardboard book. I picked it up and flipped it open with my thumb. This compact item I could use.

I spent most of the rest of the money the Paynes had given me on the supplies the tribe needed. Maggie had a glint in her eye that told me she wanted to bargain with the hardware men, but I didn't feel it necessary. I had just enough money left for dinner, so once our tools were back at our hotel and the Paynes made it back from the butcher and grocer (she had a weakness for sausage).,

Wwe headed out together to an eatery in the middle of town.

It was a tavern which served food for travelers and alcohol to the weary. And it seemed that everyone was weary. We just ordered food, though, having do desire to waste money on the other. I had a thick meatloaf, a new recipe the owners were trying. I suspected they chose it because it could sit for hours and still be edible. The Heinz Ketchup on it was a real treat. Might have to buy some of that the next time I make it into town. It would be good on elk and on the potatoes Mother grew in her garden. They seemed to have a lot of desserts, too. A sweetness filled the air. Almost too sweet, I realized as we were leaving.

Maggie wanted to walk again. She knew that since she had convinced us once, we could not deny her a second walk. The Paynes headed back to the hotel and I resumed my place a few steps behind Maggie and Quil, sniffing the air to find the source of the increasingly painful sweet smell.

Suddenly I heard a scuffle. A quick back and forth of competing feet.

"Stay here," I ordered the Atearas as I rushed up two blocks to the alley at the end of the lighted section of town.

I could hear protests escaping from a muffled mouth and then silence. With slurping. I reached the alley in time to see a cold one pull away from a crumpled woman on the ground. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a thoughtless act that boiled my blood. Within the same moment I stepped into the alley, I stripped and phased into wolf form and leaped on him. I thought I had the element of surprise, but this cold one was impossibly fast and turned to catch me by the paws mid leap. He turned and threw me back, deeper into the alley.

I heard two pairs of footsteps running on the wooden sidewalk. The cold one could hear them too, and turned. He turned toward them. Quil and Maggie were coming to investigate. I could not let this cold one hurt them. I jumped up again and threw myself toward his back. Again he caught me midair and threw me against the brick wall, crumbling it behind me.

I could see Quil silhouetted by the last lamppost. He was vibrating violently. I knew he was about to phase, but I couldn't move. I could feel broken bones start to knit back together, but the pain held me captive. I growled, trying to warn Quil. To tell him to stay away. In a terrifying instant, gray fur exploded out of Quil, turning him into a giant wolf. _Quil_. I thought in my mind. _He's a cold one. From the legends_.

He jumped up at the cold one and attempted to claw his face. Again, the cold one caught him mid air and threw him to the ground. Maggie skidded to a standstill as she reached the alley mouth. She was shocked and unable to move. The cold one turned his attention to her.

_Quil!_ I yelled in my mind. _We need to work together. Leap on him and pull out his arm. On my count. Now!_ I was not sure if I had used my Alpha voice or if Quil was just quick to understand, but before the cold one could move an inch, Quil pulled off his right arm and I ran eight deep scratches down the length of his spine, forcing him to the ground.

_Now the left_, I ordered while drawing away a leg with my teeth. _You stay here., I am going to change back and start a fire_. His thoughts were panicked. I was not sure I should leave him quite yet, but we couldn't have the cold one start to heal himself either. _Quil. Are you okayOK? Can you stay calm here for a minute?_ I wanted to reassure him, but first I needed reassurance.

_Yes,. I am okayOK. I'm just confused._ Quil's thoughts behind those words were a dizzying collection of sights and sounds that I couldn't place. Confusion was a good word for it.

I phased back and slipped my pants on. I dug into my pocket where the Flexibles lay and . gGathered some newspaper from a nearby barrel as Iand flipped open the cardboard matchholder. In an instant, the grey match caught the paper on fire and I added an empty thick paper box nearby and then a wooden one. I lit another flimsy match and the flame burned my finger. Not as safe as wooden matches for sure, but definitely more convenient. It healed quickly. I started gathering up cold parts and piling them in the fire.

"Get every scrap," I told Quil. He nodded and started throwing the arms into the flames. I bent down to pick up a chunk near the sidewalk and noticed a pair of thin black boots beneath a black skirt. Maggie. I was frozen for a few seconds too long. What must she think of her brother turning into a wolf. Of a giant brown wolf turning into me. The thoughts were paralyzing. I stood up slowly, memorizing every stitch of the thick black skirt she wore shopping. The fluffy white shirt tucked in tight at the waistband. The brown shawl over her shoulders. There was nothing left to look at. I raised my eyes to her face afraid of what I would find.

"Maggie, are you alright?" I asked. Her eyes told me the answer faster than she could. They were wide with confusion and fear.

"Sure, sure," came her answer, covering the truth. Quil had paused too, awaiting her answer. He let out a compassionate whine, he didn't believe her either.

"Come on, you should sit down," I said directing her to a bench around the corner from the alley, . Oout of the sight of the fire consuming the cold one.

She sat down and clenched her hands in her lap. Suddenly I was torn. I needed to stay with her, to comfort her and try to explain what had just happened but I also needed to help her brother understand. Why was I always wishing I could be in two places at once?

"I'm alright now. Just surprised. How did my brother do that? Change like that?"

Maggie looked a lot calmer, but she still held her hands so tight they were starting to turn white. I took them in my hands and gently peeled them apart.

"Do you remember the legends of our people? The ones the elders tell around the fire? They are not legends. They are real. Your brother and I can phase from human form to wolf form like our ancestors could. We do it to protect our tribe from the cold ones,; like that one you saw." I could hear Quil's silence. He was listening as well. Perhaps I could help them at the same time. I held onto her hands, not wanting her to tense them up again. They were a beautiful russet color, thin but strong. "But it is not something we share with the whole tribe. Too many people would be scared or not understand. Can we count on you to keep our secret? Your brother's safety depends on it."

"Of course," she answered quickly. "I know I would not believe it if someone told me. Huh. I guess Mr. Smith was wrong about us descending from monkeys. Never did like his science classes."

I smiled. She was clever and funny, even when under stress. "Yeah. And his math classes weren't much better," I teased. "I need to get you back to the hotel and come back to help Quil. He is going to take a while to learn how to go back and forth between his two forms and he will need me there. Tell the Paynes I will be there in the morning;, I know he won't be able to paddle back alone. Quil, you stay here in the alley. Do **not** move."

I stood up and waited for Maggie to stand. She didn't look like she was ready but I couldn't leave her there alone either. I reached out and took hold of her upper arm and helped her up. She slipped her hand up to my arm and held on for support as we walked back to the hotel. Her heeled boots tapped on the wooden sidewalks. I walked her inside to her hotel room as Mrs. Payne peeked out of her room next door.

"You three sure took a long time. We have to leave at first dawn, you know. The tide won't wait for us." Payne's wife always seemed to know the tides even without an almanac.

"We remember. I have to go run one more errand but I will be back by sunrise, I promise," I replied. I stood outside the door until I heard Maggie lock it. Yes,. s She was definitely still shaken up. I would have to talk to her more back at the village.

I walked faster than a human should be able to back to the alley. The streets were empty except for a horse or two outside the tavern. As I rounded the corner of the alley, I saw Quil sitting at attention next to a pile of flaming ashes.

"Did you get every last piece?" We had to be sure. Quil the wolf nodded his head and barked a quick yes. "OkayK, I am going to phase back into my wolf form so we can talk privately." An empty street was no guarantee of privacy on a dark night like this.

I entered the wolf mindspace and immediately Quil threw a hundred different questions at me_. Whoa, slow down there. First thing is first. We need to get you back to the village. _

_No way, I need to be here to protect my sister_.

_Well, you can't really row back to the village in your current condition. You can get back to the village in just a few hours running, though, and you will be there when your sister and I row in. I won't let anything hurt her._ I must have thought about her beautiful hands for a moment too long. All of a sudden Quil growled and jumped up at me. _Calm down_, I ordered and he had no choice but to obey. _I am the alpha_, I thought, answering his confusion, _you can't hurt me. And I am not in love with your sister. _

I was pretty sure I had never felt love before, but I knew what Levi felt for Sarah and I definitely did not feel that for anyone. It was like his whole world revolved around her. Each thought had her name behind it. Even when he ran the borders with me, it was to keep her safe, not the village. Levi recognized that protecting the village was the right thing to do, but it wasn't the main reason the way it was for me.

_The first thing you need to do is learn how to change back into human form. The more you do it, the easier it is, but the first few times it can be really hard. _

_If I can do it tonight, can I row back with Maggie in the morning? _Quil was almost begging.

_You are not going to be able to do it tonight. It takes a long time. Weeks sometimes. We need to run back to the village so Levi can help you while I row back with the Paynes in the morning. _

_But what if I can?_

_Sure. If you can be human again tonight, and show you are in control, so you won't become a wolf on the boat, I guess that would be alright._ _Otherwise we leave at midnight so I can get back here in time_. I knew it was impossible, though.

_How do I do it?_ Quil was determined.

It took only explaining it once before he was ready to try. I could feel his mental strain. Like trying to push a pinecone out his back end. _Don't push so hard, _I advised_. Just try to think of all the great human things you love. Your family. Food, whatever._

I could hear his thoughts turn to all the members of his family, especially his father who was injured in a whaling accident when Quil was a baby. Slowly, his skin took the place of his fur and he knelt on all fours, naked as can be.

_Wow. O_kay._K_. I wished now I had not promised him anything. But he was not in the clear yet. I joined him in human form and continued the lesson.

"You have to be able to control it the other way too. What if something makes you really angry?" There were no cold ones around. The fog was making it hard to smell even other people right now. It clung to his skin and started to condense on his bare skin as though he was made of glass. I tried to think of something that would make him mad. Finally I got it. I left my clothes attached at my ankle. I didn't plan to be human for very long.

"It sure was nice to get to walk with your sister back to the hotel room. Her hand was so soft on my arm. I could feel it through my shirt. Too bad I had to come back out here. She invited me in. Would have been nice to show her how I really feel."

I was baiting him as best I good. I pulled out a smug face and looked as lusty as I could.

I could hear a growl in Quil's throat a second before he burst into fur. I changed back quickly. _See. You are not stable_, I thought as I showed him that I had been lying. He stepped back, defeated.

_No fair. You tricked me._ Quil was angry at me, but also relieved that I had been nowhere near his sister. He really was protective of her. _I want to try again._

I chuckled and shook my head. I had to give him credit, though. He was persistent.

He filled his mind with thoughts of his mother and sister and home and the human took over again. I followed his lead and stood up as a man.

I decided to try a different tack to make him angry. "Your mother is so fat she needs two canoes to go anywhere."

He laughed. "You're right. She is pretty fat."

That did not work like I thought it would.

I needed to do better at lying, but it was hard when the guy knew you were trying to make him mad_. "_Your dad was a terrible fisherman." Talking about a disabled parent was low, but I had to try something.

Again Quil shocked me_. "_I know, right?. I don't think he ever caught a salmon big enough for the whole family_." _

"Alright, I give up. If you can phase back, and forth one more time, I will let you row back with us in the morning, but whenever we stop the canoe you and I are going to get you more training."I marveled at his control for a few seconds too long. I could see his pride growing.

"Don't get all full of yourself," I warned. The air tingled for a second as he phased and then I followed. I slipped back into my clothes and looked around for something for Quil that wasn't his ripped up clothing. I found my hat and handed it to him. He looked at me with doubt.

"Really, a hat? How is that supposed to cover me?"

"Barely," I said with a smirk and headed back toward the hotel. "Don't worry, I will go up first and get your sister to throw something down for you. I think you should stay in my room tonight, though, just in case. I don't want you to hurt Maggie if you have a nightmare."

Quil growled but agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

Jacob turned the crinkly page of the ancient journal and read on, his eyes barely noticing the passing words before he joined the mindspace of his grandfather. Ephraim's life was as vivid in Jacob's mind as his own, as though he was there beside him in the same place, but a different time.

**June 10, 1898**

Quil is a good wolf. He is anxious to please and a fast learner. I am amazed at his control, but he has nothing on Levi's speed. We learned the cold one (or vampire as they call themselves) we burned in Port Angeles was not alone. It is a good thing there are three wolves in our pack.

Levi and I took turns training Quil. He didn't need much help with phasing, but he couldn't run a straight line to save his life. Perhaps it was because he is so jovial, always making jokes and teasing. He loves to jump half way up a tree with his hind legs and change direction every few yards. So much energy.

I had been trying to get to know the tribe better, memorizing what people's favorite foods are and who had a problem with someone else. It all hurt my brain a little. I preferred to just watch from the outside, but I couldn't really protect that way.

I loved showing Quil the shortcut we made through the woods to Port Angeles. Running took a lot less time than canoeing but of course we couldn't bring anything back with us. It was no good for getting supplies.

Today I was showing Quil how to strip and phase at the same time when I smelled it. The day had started off foggy, but the cold fingers of the thick wet air had all left by lunchtime. The air was dry and quiet and we could smell for a mile or more.

"What is that stench?" asked Quil. I motioned with my head for him to get into his wolf form so I could answer his question.

_That is the sharp sweetness of a vampire. Two in fact. _I let out a quick howl. If there were two, we were going to need Levi's help.

_I can handle one on my own_, Quil whined.

_No, I prefer to stack the odds in our favor._

_Oh I know, that is why I never let you deal the cards for 5-Card Draw, _Quil joked.

We felt the familiar shimmer in mindspace as Levi joined us. _Did we pull you away from anything?_

_Nah, the judge is allowed to take an hour recess whenever he wants. Where are you guys? _It had been a while since Levi had done this and he felt anxious for some ashes. He joined us as we sniffed the air, trying to determine where they were coming from. They seemed to be coming from Port Angeles- on my shortcut trail. When they were a half mile away, we could hear them talking.

"Do you still have the trail?" a melodic female voice asked.

"Oh yeah, definitely," another female voice responded. "And it is getting stronger. They might be nearby."

"How did a dog kill Jeter?"

"I didn't say it was a dog. I said it smelled like a dog. Maybe a wolf?"

"Still, a wolf can't really kill us either. Are you sure? Maybe he just got bored with us and left." The second one seemed unsure of herself.

"No, I know a burnt vampire when I smell it. Someone not only killed him but knew how to dispose of the body too and we are going to find out who. The smell definitely came this way."

_They are almost here,_ I thought. _Levi, do you want to handle one on your own or are you rusty?_

_I am not made of iron, Ephraim. I have not forgotten how to do this. _

_Alright, then. You stay here, Quil and I will head off to the left and come at them from the other side. _

Attacking from the sides was always safer. Harder to get bit if you attacked only from the sides or back.

We ran quickly, but still the cold ones seemed to notice something was up.

"There is something big moving up ahead. Two somethings. I can hear the crashing." The second cold one had good ears.

"Oh yeah, I smell it. Definitely what we have been following. How big do you think they are?" the first one wondered.

"250, 300 pounds easy."

"That's a big dog."

_Are you guys in position yet?_ Levi was getting nervous as the cold ones approached. I could see them with his eyes through the tree trunks.

They both had long curly brown ringlets framing their faces, with their hair pulled up in the back. One was taller by a few inches and was wearing a pink and red dress that looked like a cake I had seen in the bakery in Port Angeles: pink and fluffy down to the ground. The cold one I was approaching wore a fancy blue flowered dress, soft and silky. Odd choices for the forest certainly. Perhaps they thought they could make quick work of whatever "dogs" they thought they were following and return to the fancy life they were used to living.

Their long white gloves and full length dresses left only the space between their elbows and sleeves exposed. The sun streamed in between the trees and for a moment it seemed as though their skin sparkled like the ocean on a sunny day. Blinding. They were beautiful to look at and their clothes made them look like images from a catalog the clothing store owner in Port Angeles was always showing the customers.

_Sure, sure. We are ready,_ Quil answered.

I stepped it up for a quick second to flip myself to their rear. With three of us, it made sense to attack from three sides.

_Remember, go for the arms and avoid the teeth_. In a different situation, Quil would have laughed at that. Obvious was always funny, I thought. Today he just repeated it to himself.

_Go for the arms. Avoid the teeth. Right_.

_Count of three….two…. one. _

We leaped out of our hiding places at the same time, but the cold ones knew we were close and the one in blue turned around to meet me face on. She hissed and caught me midair just as Quil reached her side and yanked her left arm off, ripping her dress into thin lacey strips in the process.

"Lynn, run!" my cold one yelled out, not realizing that her friend had a wolf of her own to deal with. Levi had pushed the other, 'Lynn,' to the ground, had ripped one arm off and was about to rip off the other one.

"Lisa! What are these? Aaaaaah," the one called Lynn started to scream. I could tell in an instant Levi was taking care of her. I turned my attention back to 'Lisa' who was putting up quite a fight. I did not really like knowing they had names. She held me tight with one arm and threw me against the ground. She turned her attention toward Quil. Grabbing him by the scruff of his neck she threw him one-handed against a tree and I heard the terrifying sound of breaking bones. I launched myself at her again but she could tell I was coming and kicked me hard in the gut. High-heeled shoes hurt. I could feel warm blood stream out of a gash on my furry stomach.

"Sister!" Lisa yelled and lunged toward the pile of red cloth and white body parts. Only the trunk clothed in pink and red remained. "Lynn!"

Her distraction was all that Levi and I needed. I launched myself onto her back and Levi bit at her head. I yanked off her remaining arm and legs while he scratched at her back and head, trying to stop the screaming. I noticed the head belonging to Lynn had gotten detached, too. Their yells really seemed to bother Levi.

_Well, yeah. I wish all cold ones were male. Easier to fight men than women_. I could see his thoughts of his wife holding their two young sons.

I phased back to avoid his sentimental thoughts and pulled out the package of Flexies. I never left home without them. I quickly made a fire and nodded at Levi to start gathering the pieces. The silk of their dresses sparked and twisted in the flames. I rushed over to Quil. He did not respond to my calls.

You have to get up, I begged in the hollow of my human mind. Please. Open your eyes.

I heard a rustling behind me as Levi regained his human form and got dressed. "We need to carry him back closer to the village. Maybe your father knows how to wake him."

"No," I replied, "I don't think we should wake him. His bones are probably healing right now. I bet he will wake up when that is done. I will stay here with him until he does."

Levi jogged off back to his judging duties and I sat on a fallen trunk near Quil to watch the cold ones go up in smoke. And to do my duty for Quil. The flames soon consumed the silk, skin and bones while thick purple smoke reached the clouds. I watched Quil's chest rise and fall with each breath. The forest was too quiet, each bird and rabbit seemed to freeze with me, waiting to see when Quil would recover. The silence drove me crazy until finally, I stripped down and changed form.

_Quil, are you there?_ I listened hard, hoping for his answer. I saw in his mind a golden eagle flying high above the spruce and hemlock trees. Sometimes he could see the bird and sometimes he was the bird.

_Ephraim, look, I can phase into an eagle too. So beautiful up here_.

I considered trying to tell him it was a dream. Even though he was not awake, he could hear my thoughts.

_No, it can't be a dream. It is too real. Can't you feel the wind? The wet clouds?_

_Quil. It __**is **__a dream. You got hurt by a cold one and now you are on the ground healing. You will wake up again soon. _

This was terribly disappointing to him. He decided to ignore me and hoped I would go away. Assured that he was alive at least, I phased back and sat back on the trunk, watching Quil breathe and hoping he would heal soon.

For two days I sat by his side. Levi came out with some food and volunteered to run the edges of our land. He told my Father where I was. He also told Quil's family that the two of us decided to go on a hunting trip. I was free to just sit and watch the wolf form of an eighteen-year-old kid injured while I was in charge. Guilt had been a companion of mine before, but this was different. I thought of all the ways this was literally my fault. The "vampires" as they called themselves had followed my shortcut trail here. They were looking for us because I had killed their friend. Quil was injured because I told him to help us instead of watching us this time. I knew it would get worse if he didn't wake up.

I began to pray in my mind. I prayed to the power that I could not understand but that seemed to control things. I prayed to the Shaker God the preacher and Mr. Smith talked about in school. I prayed to Dokibatt who created the first man out of a wolf. I received only silence back and the steady breathing of the wolf boy at my side.

At the end of the second day, Quil stirred, kicking his leg slightly. Then he opened his eyes.

"Welcome back," I said out loud.

He barked slightly and began to shake and then shift into his human form. He slipped into his pants.

"I had some weird dreams. I was an eagle and a salmon and an elk and then a bear. I thought it was real," Quil said with a shake of his head. "And you were there, always as a wolf and you kept saying, 'you are not an eagle. You are not a salmon.' You were like the tide: always coming back to the same thing."

I smiled. "Good to have you back Quil."

I walked him back to his parents' home. They invited me in and I explained that he had hit his head pretty hard while we were hunting and he should probably take it easy for a few days. He looked betrayed, but knew I could force him to slow down if I had to, so he chose to say nothing. Maggie was staring at me from the moment we stepped in until I turned to go.

"Mother, I am going to walk with Ephraim for a little while," she said as she stood and joined me at the door. Once we were outside and beyond the earshot of her parents, she continued, "You weren't hunting animals were you?" I didn't have to answer. "Did he really hit his head?"

"Yes, and his spine was broken on a tree he was thrown against. He dreamt for two days." Two children ran past us, chasing each other all the way down to the ocean's edge. We had to be vague. Her questions made my guilt worse. "There were two of them," I explained, making excuses for myself.

She stopped my description by putting a hand on my shoulder. "Thank you for bringing him home."

I felt calm and forgiven. Maggie turned and I watched her trudge through the sand and beach grass back to her home.


	5. Chapter 5

Jacob's back felt stiff, so he spread out on his father's bed and continued to read from the old leather journal.

**February 20, 1900**

**Father insisted Quil, Levi and I go to the potlatch the Makah had to celebrate their last whale catch of the season. We rode up in a canoe with Father and nine other elders. **

**The Protectors learned something important. We call it imprinting.**

The canoe carried gifts for the Makah, but we knew we would return with more than we brought. Two women sat in the middle of the canoe. The rest of us paddled. Rain drizzled down around us, soaking through shirts and rolling down seal skin jackets. My hair was dripping before we even began.

The village was decorated at every turn. While the Makah welcomed our little group, I noticed canoes tied and coming in from the Quinault, Bella Coola and Salish tribes. It had been a decade since a potlatch had been so large. Pale faces on both sides of the Puget Sound had outlawed gatherings of so many tribes, so this would be short- only one day, and hopefully no one would notice.

The potlatch was held in the cedar bark potlatch house, a huge longhouse decorated with totems and painted animal carvings. The Makah had a very good whaling year after several bad ones in a row and they were anxious to show their wealth and position as the best whalers around. The pale faces had killed too many gray whales in recent years and we never knew when we would have to stop whaling. We brought a lot of whale meat, a subtle reminder that we were great whalers too.

Soon the longhouse was full and the potlatch began. I knew my father had invited us because as Protectors, we would someday help with all tribal concerns. The chief was usually a Protector, he told me. I tried to pay attention to each detail, each exchanged item and ate heartily of the whale meat and early bunches of shoots. I watched the dancers dressed in animal skins and painted masks. I passed around potlatch bowls and bentwood boxes holding gifts for each chief invited here.

I was distracted by an elbow in my side. I looked up at Levi and he nodded toward Quil. Quil seemed to be entranced. His mouth was slightly open and he stared unblinking across the room. I followed his gaze to the face of a young Bella Coola girl seated between her parents. She couldn't have been older than fifteen with a thick black braid down her back. The fact that she was here at all told us she was a chief's daughter, or perhaps a shaman's. By the look of her parents, perhaps both. Her father sat up tall and wore a decorated raven hat/mask on his head. Her mother wore a hat decorated with animal bones pointing up to the sky and necklaces made of bone, teeth and dried berries. Her eyes were black and piercing. She looked down into my soul and refused to look away.

Levi looked at me pointedly. I responded with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. I tried to go back to the potlatch, but Quil's look haunted me. It was familiar and yet I had never seen it before.

As the potlatch drew to a close, Levi pulled all three of us out of the longhouse and shoved us toward the water. He started walking south, away from the village. I shrugged at Quil and we followed him. Once he was sure we couldn't be heard by anyone else he began.

"It happened again," he stated.

"What happened? What are you talking about?"

"Did you see the way Quil was looking at _Bixalik_? The Bella Coola Chief's daughter?" Levi persisted. "It was like when I first saw Sarah."

"Oh, you think he is in love?" I ventured, as though Quil was not there.

Levi shook his head violently. "No, not just in love. He has found his mate." I must have looked confused so he continued. "Your father told me this happens with some wolf protectors. When they meet the one they are meant to be with it is like her image is impressed in his heart. Like it is printed on with ink. Never to be changed."

"_Bixalik_. Like a flower. Such a pretty name. She's a good girl." Quil was still in a daze.

"He feels like the whole world revolves around her, and indeed for him it does. He will do anything for her, anything she needs he will do. Haven't you felt that in my thoughts about Sarah?" Levi was desperate for me to understand.

"Yes, of course. I just thought it was the way love always is." This was not a field I had any experience in. "So now that she is… printed in his heart, what does that mean?"

"I think I need to go up to Barkley Sound. Just to make sure she is safe. What if her canoe capsized on the way home? Or she stubbed her toe on a rock? I had better go back right now. She might need me." Quil turned to go back to the longhouse.

"Slow down, Quil. We need to figure some things out. Do you love her?" Levi looked calculating.

"What, like to marry her? No, she's too young, no one should marry her yet. Do you think someone is trying to marry her? I had better go back. She needs me if someone is trying to marry her." Quil was talking faster than anyone should.

"No, Quil. She is fine. She's just going to bed. It's late," I said turning him around, "Let's go find a place to unroll our bedrolls." _Later_ I mouthed to Levi. I could tell he wasn't done.

I pushed Quil back to our canoe. We grabbed our bedrolls and set out to find Father. He had found us a place to stay in a Makah longhouse near our canoe. Levi and I pretended to get ready for bed all the time helping Quil until finally we settled him down and he fell asleep.

"Father, Levi and I are going out for a run." He knew I meant in wolf form. The wooden door creaked against the metal hinges. Like everything in our village, the Makah village was a merging of traditional and pale face ways.

_Quil is right you know,_ Levi thought as soon as we were in wolf form. _He probably will need to go north for a few years. It will kill him to be away from her_ and _she is too young to leave her parents. _

_I understand this 'printing' stuff is important to you, but there is no need to exaggerate._

_Death is hardly an exaggeration, _Levi continued._ Your father said that some wolf protectors die of a broken heart when kept from their mates or printees. Because she is …imprinted on his heart. _Levi suddenly felt very smug. Imprinting. He had invented a word, he realized. _Or at least a new definition. _

I rolled my eyes. That is all we need as wolves: the inability to think straight once we have laid eyes on a girl.

_Not just any girl,_ Levi corrected. _THE girl_.

I sighed and headed back. I knew I could convince Father that Quil needed to go visit the northern tribes but I wondered how we could convince the Bella Coolas that he just wanted to protect their daughter for a few years and then perhaps fall in love with her and marry her? As we reached the edge of the forest, I could hear someone- their breathing and a heartbeat- the opposite direction from the sleeping tribes, alone near the ocean. I could see a silhouette of an older woman standing where the grass gave way to the sand looking toward the ocean. I looked at Levi and he shrugged. We quickly shifted into our human forms and pulled on our pants.

We headed back toward our canoe, but the woman would not be ignored. She turned and called out to us.

"Wolf Protectors. I believe you have something to discuss with me." It was the Bella Coola Shaman and she looked at us expectantly. She did not speak to us in her own native language, but rather the Shaman spoke to us in perfect Quileute.

"What did you call us?" How could she know what we were?

"I called you Wolf Protectors because that is what you are. My grandfather was a Quileute. He speaks to me from beyond the grave. He told me you have a question for me."

I swallowed hard, not sure I was ready to answer so pointed a request. But I was the Alpha. It was my job to be the spokesman. "One of our tribe has found a soul mate in your daughter. He wishes to stay with your tribe, to learn your ways and offer our unique kind of protection to your tribe." _Until she is of age and perhaps wishes to marry him, _I thought to myself_. _

"How long?"

"That is up to you and your tribe….. and your daughter." I knew she was probably answering my unspoken thought. Even if she could not read minds, and I did not think she could, a mother would hear the intent in the phrase soul mate.

"Does he know?"

"He knows he wants to protect her. He is too dazed right now to think beyond that. We will make sure he understands before he goes," Levi answered for me.

She nodded her head once. "We leave at first dawn."

**March 1, 1900**

**Maggie really misses her brother but I keep her updated. Distance is no object to a Wolf Protector.**

When we arrived home from the potlatch, I went over to the Ateara's planked house to tell them that their son had decided to study with the Bella Coola for a while. Mrs. Ateara protested at first but I explained that her son was staying with a chief and a shaman, she calmed down. Maggie stared at me. I knew if anything happened to him I would be to blame in her mind.

Ten days after we returned to the village at the mouth of the river, I was running out beyond the places where the women gather roots when I felt someone enter the mindspace of the wolf. _Levi?_ I wondered, knowing he was eating dinner with his ever-growing family.

_Nope, it's me! Miss me much you old bag of bones?_ Quil has phased into wolf form. The 200 miles between us did not make any difference. I could see the trees around him, echoing those I ran past. The moss clung to the rocks and the ferns glinted in the moonlight.

_How is it going? _

_Great, _Quil answered enthusiastically. _I am staying with Bixalik's brother Thomas. Did you know their great-grandfather was Quileute? He came up here after the smallpox killings. They even still use his design for fish nets. I haven't seen one of those before._

_Sounds good, Quil._

_How is Maggie?_ Quil missed his sister. So much that I missed her too even though I had seen her earlier today. She was gathering skunk cabbage when I passed by looking for deer.

_Your family is fine, _I answered trying to get my thoughts off his sister before he suspected I missed her._ Levi and I are checking in with your family everyday to make sure they don't need anything. I think your dad isn't feeling well. Rarely gets out of bed. _I **had** taken an interest in his family. I decided it was because I was the Alpha and needed to make sure that Quil's family was okay without him here. Levi had enough things to worry about.

_Sounds good. Make sure none of the ruffians down there try to romance my sister. You've gotta protect her for me, all right?_

_Sure, sure_, I thought mimicking their family's affirmation. I smiled and with my wolf teeth peeking out it was probably terrifying to anyone watching. But no one was.

_I gotta go help unpack and stuff, I will 'hear' you later_, laughed Quil as he changed back to human form.

I thought then about Quil's sister. She was smart and strong and the best trader I knew. Since she knew my secrets, she was easy to talk to and easy to be around. I knew I did not feel for her what Levi did for Sarah or even what Quil did for Bixalik, but she was comfortable and practical. I didn't feel like I couldn't breathe without her, but I enjoyed being with her.

I could live without her, I had for thirty-one years after all. But I knew that if I could see her everyday, I would live better. She could cook and sew, gather and prepare a feast from the things that grew in the forest. She could glare down any man who tried to strike an unfair bargain. She was fiercely independent and I liked that.

With the same breath that I promised her brother to keep ruffians away from Maggie, I wondered if she would consider marrying me.

**December 12, 1900**

**Burned a cold one. This one was different: he could move the wind.**

I had gotten into a rhythm I rather enjoyed. Each day I would fish or hunt then I would check in on the Atearas. I spent many afternoons there, talking to Maggie and bringing the family fish or seal meat. If it was a nice day, she and I would go for a walk along the shore or on paths into the woods to gather flowers or fruit. In the evening I changed into wolf form and ran as far and deep as I could, deep into the Olympic National Reserve, as the pale faces called the inland forest they took from us, and as far south as the Ho River. Of course we never called them pale faces to their faces, but in Quileute, the nickname stuck.

But the winter months had kept us inside and I got the feeling Mrs. Ateara did not exactly approve of my presence. Mr. Ateara moaned from the corner and often all her attention was on him, but recently he had been silent, only tossing every once in a while. This meant she turned her attention toward me. She had me sweep the floor she had swept before I got there. I repaired the nets that hung on the wall awaiting Quil's return. I patched the shingled roof and drove more nails into the wooden floor. All the while she sat in a chair by the fire repairing clothes and clucking her tongue disapprovingly.

Maggie moved around, always doing something. She sewed cotton and wool clothes and weaved baskets and cedar bark mats. She cooked and cleaned of course, but she also pulled a chair up to the window on sunny or bright cloudy days and read. She read the Bible, newspapers and history books. She borrowed the _Red Badge of Courage_ and _The Time Machine_ from the shopkeeper's daughter and we talked of the strange things she read. I tried to read them, but got lost on the first page with words like "thoroughfares" and "fecundity." I liked it better when she talked about it anyway.

The rain was pouring down for the third day in a row. Not a real storm, but an endless fall of rain soaking everything it could touch. I brought the Atearas some of the last of the steelhead for the season. Mrs. Ateara immediately sent me out again for some firewood, kept stacked high in a lean-to beside the house. With my arms full, I turned with my back to the door and was about to push it open when I heard Maggie sigh with exasperation.

"I don't know, Mother."

"And when is he going to marry you? Have you told him no?" her mother continued.

"He has not asked me. I don't even know if he feels that way about me. I think he is just visiting because Quil asked him to." I didn't have to see her to know she was nervously working the hem of her sleeve.

"Well, what else do you talk about when you are out walking for hours on end? Surely the subject has come up," her mother said.

I froze at the door awaiting her answer. The rain bounced off the wood in my arms and I realized some of it had turned into hail. Only a white bounce or two every couple seconds, melting quickly and joining the rain as it tumbled to the ground.

"We talk about lots of things: things I have read, things he has done. Never about feelings."

"Well, old man Payne's been talking about you marrying his son and if one of you doesn't hurry up and decide what's going on, I just might consent for you," her mother threatened as only a mother can.

I decided to take that as my cue and pushed in with my back towards them, giving me an extra second to compose my face. I placed the wood by the fireplace and added some smaller pieces and a log to keep it going. I turned around to face the main room of the house. "Maggie, would you like to go for a walk with me?"

She looked up from the sewing in her hands with surprise and then looked out the small window behind her with confusion. "Sure, sure," she said. Maggie folded her sewing into a basket and retrieved her wool cape. She avoided her mother's glare, but I could see a smugness and sneakiness in Mrs. Ateara's eyes.

"So, walking in the rain, huh? Thought you liked to stay inside when it rains," Maggie began once we were outside and a short distance from her parent's house. Her hand rested on my arm as we had done once in Port Angeles and on our walks since.

"Yeah, usually I do. But sometimes you can't avoid it." The rain pelted my plaid shirt collared shirt and made it stick to my skin. I looked over at Maggie. Her wool cloak was buttoned up to her neck. There was no hood, but the high collar kept her dry. Her shoulders were raised up in defense against the rain. I never got cold anymore, but I knew she still could. The white bouncing hail slowed but the rain continued. As long as we were walking I figured sure she would be warm enough.

"Maggie, do you enjoy being with me?" I asked not knowing exactly where I was going with this question.

"Yes, Ephraim," she answered.

We walked along the ocean shore while raindrops made patterns on the sand. The sky was a hundred shades of gray all fighting with each other to drop their load first. There was hardly any wind so the drops fell straight down. The smells of the ocean, salty and full of fish, combined with the green and muddy smells of the forest.

I thought about how I enjoyed being with Maggie. With her it was easy and comfortable. Like she was already family. "I enjoy being with you too," I voiced.

After a few more steps, I continued, "Do you want to marry me?"

"Well, that would depend." She looked straight ahead and then in my eyes. I could see the trader come out. I felt like the shopowner in Port Angeles and she had found a loose hem. "I need to remain with my parents. Mother needs my help with Father everyday. And I want to marry in June. When the foxgloves bloom. And if you ever raise a hand – or paw - against me I will leave that day, whether or not you are a wolf. Understood?"

"Sure, sure," I said quickly. I was taken aback slightly by her list of demands, but at the same time I agreed with all of them.

"Also, we can't tell my parents until you are ready to present them with your wedding gift. My mother will consider you unworthy unless you are generous," Maggie said.

She looked forward and continued walking. I felt her shiver slightly, so I turned her around with a large half circle, not losing the connection of our linked arms, and led her back home. We walked silently as I tried to decide what gift would show I was worthy of their daughter. I felt it should be something they needed and would use everyday. Perhaps a canoe. But with Quil gone, they wouldn't use that often.

As the Ateara house came into view, I realized I had my answer. Their house had survived many winter storms and the lumber had faded to a sickening gray. We built so quickly after the fire, not all the homes were built well. I could see the light leeching through the cracks between pieces of wood. Now all that was left was to decide how to replank the house without letting her mother know it was a wedding gift. The Atearas rarely left home.

I let Maggie in and then excused myself. I had some planning to do if I was going to get this done right. A wedding can take a long time to plan, from the potlatch to the wedding blankets and feast preparations. My clothing would be easy, but Maggie would need a veil and perhaps a wedding dress if she wanted. The pale face catalogs could be copied or she could make something more traditional, but either way hand sewing takes time.

And so did creating enough split log planks to cover their entire house. I stopped at home to get my tools from the basket above my sleep mat. My mother seemed surprised to see me before dinner. I assured her I would be back soon and set off for the straight stands of cedar. I felled fifteen logs right away, choosing thick trunks that could be split into planks. I stacked them up carefully, slipping only once against the muddy ground. I realized then that I needed someplace drier to work. There was a reason we don't plank houses in the winter. My stomach growled and I knew I would have to solve this problem later.

After dinner I quickly changed into my wolf form and ran south for a while. I was running south, away from where Quil was, but as had become his pattern, he joined me in wolf form after a few minutes. I tried to think about the forest as I ran past, but the sight of cedars brought me back to an image of the cedars I was preparing for his sister's house.

_Hey Quil, _I said, hoping he has not seen my thoughts_._

_Why are you planking my house, Ephraim?_

I tried to concentrate on the mud between my paws but his question had caught me off guard and my mind flashed to Maggie and her conditions. Suddenly I could feel Quil's anger. _Calm down, Quil_. I thought of his mom, hoping he would see it was good for his family, too.

_Ephraim, were you going to marry my sister without telling me? Come on, I thought we were friends._ I sighed with relief and let him see all my thoughts. He was still not sure I was worthy of her, but I was definitely closer than anyone her age.

_I think Mother would love to have the house planked with cedar. Wish I was down there so I could help you with the surprise_, he thought.

_How is Bixalik?_ I asked turning the conversation back to him.

That was all the invitation he needed. Soon he had forgotten all about his big sister and me and he was all about how much Bixalik had learned at school and how good she was at weaving baskets.

Then I smelled something sweet and painful. I turned inland and ran through the woods, dodging bushes and trees until I could glimpse a loose blue shirt with a short collar between the trees. He was heading north, probably to Port Angeles or Seattle. He was running pretty fast, too. I had to change direction to run parallel to him.

_Go Ephraim_, Quil thought. _Watch out for the …_

Keeping an eye on the cold one meant I had taken my eyes off the ground and I tumbled over some roots, flipping tail over snout and ending up sprawled out on the wet ground. It had made a big crash and I heard the cold one stop and change direction to investigate.

I froze for a second. Should I call for Levi to help or just handle it on my own? _Oh you got this_, Quil said with confidence. _The cold one looks short and weak_. I liked hearing that, but hesitated. We are not always what we appear. Too soon the cold one could see me flat on my stomach between two hemlock trees. His long hair was pulled back tight away from his forehead, making his forehead look long and flat. He wore a small black hat and blue pants that matched the color and fabric of his shirt. His eyes were narrow, like he was squinting into the sun. He seemed confused so I acted. In the second he gave me, I launched up at him. Instead of scratching his face apart as I had planned, I found myself scratching the rain in the air. A rough wind filled with the falling rain threw me back to the ground.

I shook my head to convince myself I was still sane and ran at him again, this time planning to take him down at the waist. Again a wind threw me back. I looked up at the cold one and realized his hand was up, as though he had created the wind, or at least convinced it to attack me.

_That was unexpected_, Quil thought.

_Not helping_, I shot back. I leaned my head back and howled. Quil couldn't help, but Levi could. The cold one looked like he was ready to run, but he did not want to turn his back to me. I growled at him, showing my teeth in anger. I would not be defeated by a cold one. I lunged again and was thrown back again. He was getting angry now. He showed his teeth and hissed. The rain darkened his black hair even blacker. He crouched as though he might leap at me, but he hesitated. One more second and a crash and Levi was upon him, scratching and clawing.

I leaped forward and joined in. The awful sound of claws scratching stone filled the air. The cold one pushed away Levi and then me. We lunged again and the cold one got frustrated. While I pulled off one arm his teeth grazed Levi's shoulder. Levi bit back and severed the head clean off. Levi fell back and spit the head away. I dismantled the rest of the dead body and phased to light it on fire, gathering wet wood and kindling on the way. The fire sputtered and smoked, but finally caught on the pale parts and thin blue fabric.

I hurried over to Levi. "Phase back," I said. Perhaps if we could see his injuries, I could help him better. His black furry body shuddered and changed to reveal his dark tan skin. At his shoulder was a small bite, bleeding and foaming with the cold one's venom. The rain splashed in the wound and gave me an idea. I scooped up my friend and ran to the river. I laid him down carefully and used my hands to scoop more water onto his shoulder and arm. The foaming slowed down, I thought, but maybe I just diluted it. Levi was weak, and losing blood.

"Quil…" Levi said weakly, "medicine."

"Quil is bringing medicine?" I asked. Of course he saw the whole thing. He must have told Levi he was going to come down. But that would take hours. Even if Quil could go at his top speed, it would take him at least four hours to wind around all the cities and waterways. He could not fly straight here like his thoughts could. Running would take time, even as fast as he could run. And a cold one's bites was fatal. I knew it was hopeless. I knelt on the bank of the river and poured water onto Levi's shoulder. His body was trying to repair it, the edges were closing in on each other.

I remembered suddenly my father showing me how to suck a rattlesnake wound. He said it had to be done before the body closed up over the wound. I had to do something. The water could only wash away the poison on the skin. Something needed to suck out the rest. I leaned over Levi's shoulder and sucked out some foam and blood. The foam stung my tongue and I spit it out into the river. I bent over again and again, feeling hopeless and unhelpful.

Levi's eyes fluttered weakly. He was at risk of slipping away to a place I could not pull him back from. My teeth cut into his skin, not allowing the wound to close up. Finally the blood no longer stung. I stopped sucking and scooted away from Levi. His shoulder was still bleeding. I shrugged off my wet shirt and ripped it into long strips. I wrapped this tightly against Levi's shoulder and arm and phased into wolf form.

_Quil, where are you?_

_Outside of Vancouver. _

_Where?_

_Near the Musqueam village._

_Okay, I am going to run toward you. I'll phase when we get closer._ This wasn't a great plan, but it was my only plan. I could not sit here waiting for Quil to arrive. If Levi was going to survive, and that was doubtful, we would need whatever help we had sooner rather than later. I had no idea where Quil had gotten any medicine or what good it would do against a cold one bit, but it was Levi's only chance and a chance worth taking.

I took to my human form and unlashed Levi's pants from his ankle. I forced them on his legs and scooped him up in my arms. I ran south and east, scaring birds and rabbits out of bushes in my haste. I had to get around the water and head up toward Levi's only hope for survival. After I had run for an hour, I could see Mount Tahoma and knew it was time to turn north. My arms were tired, but I knew it did not matter if it could help Levi. His skin was cooling and he had not opened his eyes in quite a while. I headed north, keeping out of cities. Even though I was not a wolf, I knew the sight of someone running this fast would be scary.

I stopped beside a stream and carefully put Levi down. His head lolled slightly, as though his neck was too weak to hold it up. I dipped my hand in the midnight blue water and drank. Then I uncovered Levi's shoulder and poured water on it as well. There was still a gaping hole, but it was half the size it had been before. I quickly redressed the shoulder and changed form. Quil was running. He was by the ocean, the moon reflecting off to his right.

_It's Puget Sound_, Quil corrected. He saw an approaching house and veered east, planning to run the forests outside of Seattle. The five and six story buildings had inside lights and streetlights kept running with wires and electricity. Quil could not remain unseen there.

_I just turned north when I saw Mount Tahoma._

_Sure, sure. I see it._ He was silent for a moment while maps and figures scrolled through his head. _I bet we will meet at the Puyallup Reservation if our paces remain the same._

_Sounds good. See you there. _I was starting to get anxious. Levi was looking pale, never a good thing for a Quileute. I picked him up and continued running north. The mountains to my right started to encroach on the forest, so I ran further west, staying on flat ground if I could. Pine and contorta trees had long replaced the cedars and hemlocks of the coast. The rain had let up a little bit, but the ground was still wet and slippery. I held Levi close against my chest, not wanting to drop him as I jumped over a puddle filled with pine needles.

Finally up ahead I could see the southern border of the Puyallup Reservation. It had been a long time since we had attended a potlatch here, but I remembered the contorta noodles sweetened with sugar we were served. And I remembered the grove of trees at the west end of the reservation. I headed for it and heard Quil approaching as well. It was easy to hear a 250 pound wolf when you know what to listen for.

I put Levi down on a bed of needles and changed to wolf form. _We are over here, Quil. Can you see us?_

_Nope, but I can smell you. I will be right there, h_e said.

I changed back to human form. Levi lay too still on the ground. I unwrapped his shoulder and saw that the wound was only the size of a thumb, like a fingerprint of evil marking his brown shoulder. Quil bounded into the clearing and put a leather bag down on the ground. He changed, dressed and picked up the bag.

"Bixalik's mother has been working on this for a while," Quil explained. He opened the leather bag to reveal a small red stone and a glass medicine bottle with a cork stopper. They both fit in one hand. "This is jasper. It takes out snake venom and soothes the nerves." He placed the stone on Levi's shoulder and rewrapped it, so the stone was in contact with the open wound.

"He needs to drink this," he continued, indicating the bottle. I sat behind Levi and pulled him to a sitting position with his back resting on my chest. He was cool to the touch and limp. Quil yanked off the cork and eased the liquid into Levi's mouth. "Bixalik's mother made this tea with jasper water and juniper berries. She said if anything can heal a cold one's bite, this would."

The Shaman's medicine splashed down Levi's throat. He gurgled for a second, but then swallowed. He slunk back against me, motionless. The moon was the only light and it was mostly blocked by the thick pine trees. In this light, Quil looked older. Definitely not the young kid who followed his imprint to Bella Coola.

After a long quiet wait, Levi opened his eyes. I couldn't help myself. I smiled a big goofy grin. "Hey, you all right?" I asked.

"Yeah. I feel weak though. How did Quil get here?" Levi mumbled. Then he looked around. His face showed confusion: he did not recognize this place. "How did we get here?"

"Ephraim carried you here to save you from the bite of the cold one you killed," Quil said.

"And Quil ran here with this medicine from the Shaman of Bella Coola," I said, trying to put credit where credit was due.

"Thank you, brothers," Levi murmured. He lifted up his left arm and put it down again. Then he was motionless. "I can't move my right arm." He was concerned. "I can't move my arm."

I removed the bandage and caught the jasper in my palm. Quil held his hand out for it and replaced it in the leather bag along with the glass bottle.

"Try again," I suggested.

He was motionless. His arm was paralyzed. He scooted away from me and stood up.

"My legs still work," he said. "I guess 3 out of four isn't so bad." He began to shake and nothing happened. He increased the look of concentration on his face and tried again. Again nothing.

Levi was no longer a Wolf Protector.

**Author's note: **

Quilete word I have used as a name:

Bixalik - flower


	6. Chapter 6

Jacob heard the washer clunk to a stop. He got up, his mind reeling with the stories of Ephraim's life. He slipped to the back room where the laundry was now waiting to be changed. He felt as paralyzed as Levi. He had to command each muscle in his body to change the laundry, throwing the wet clothes into the dryer. Jacob stretched from his legs to his neck with a great reach of his arms as his fingers scraped the ceiling. His mind froze with the possibility of losing his abilities or even worse. He returned to his father's room and the book that lay open on the bed. Stretching himself out, he picked it back up and continued to read.

**June 15, 1901**

**Today I married Maggie Ateara. Quil and Bixalik came down with her mother for the potlatch. They saw no reason to wait any longer, so they married too. They will stay in our village now. **

Maggie wanted to marry in June. She wanted thimbleberries and smelt at our potlatch. She and her mother made a veil decorated in shells and coins and bells. Her dress had a high collar and a lot of ruffles down the front. She looked beautiful. The blankets were made of wool or goat-hair, each one with a different animal decorating the front.

We stood on our wedding blanket with the sun high in the sky while the tribal elder directed people at our wedding to bring forward their gifts and place them around our feet. My parents brought thimbleberries and smelt. Others placed salmonberries and smoked salmon and baskets full of roots and eggs. The Paynes brought corn cakes and sausages, they bought corn meal in Port Angeles whenever they could. When our blanket was full, the feast began.

Everyone was excited to see Quil and Bixalik and it took him forever to come over and congratulate us. "Ephraim, you remember Bixie," Quil said, his hand in hers.

"Of course. Bixalik, how are you." It was more of a statement than a question. Her thick black hair was cut straight across half way down her back. Her smile was sweet and shy.

Quil continued, "And this is my sister Maggie." Bixalik reached up and took my bride in her arms.

"I have heard so much about you. I am so excited for you!" she whispered into Maggie's ear. Maggie hugged her back and smiled.

I looked over to the feast table and noticed Levi and Sarah and their children. He kept his right arm tight to his side and maneuvered the food onto his children's plates with his left. His injury had been explained by a snake bite. The wolf Protectors were back together and yet not. Levi's wife now panicked whenever he talked about going hunting with me, so even our human activities had gotten pushed aside. I missed my friend, yet I knew that marriage and families made it hard for men to stay friends.

Quil put his arm on my shoulder and looked in my eyes. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Sure, sure, go ahead Quil," I said.

"No, not now. In private and Levi should be there too. After the wedding, before the potlatch."

I nodded my head and Quil caught his mother's attention and went over to her.

I smiled, remembering how I had planked the Ateara's whole house before his mother noticed. I told her I was just going to patch up a few holes, but I worked as fast as I could, grateful for the cover of the short apple trees Mr. Ateara planted there more than a decade ago. January had been dry and sunny most afternoons. We would wake up to dreary clouds and then be surprised by the heat. I had to push up my sleeves or remove my shirt altogether for almost a week as I banged nails into the planks.

She thought of me as her son did: better than nothing.

Maggie reached her hand up to my face and I turned to look at her. The decorated veil blew in the ocean wind and the light dress stood out beautifully against her dark skin, hair and eyes.

"Ready?" she said.

"Sure, sure," I replied with a smile.

Slipping away on your wedding day is not an easy feat, but I could tell Quil needed to speak to us. Once the ceremony was over, I sought out Levi and we went in search of Quil. We found him with Bixalik and her shaman mother. I made our excuses to her and went to the woods for a brief meeting of the wolves.

"I need you guys to help me propose marriage to Bixie. The Bella Coola way is different than ours. I need you to ask her mother's permission and bring secret gifts. Then we can announce our engagement at the potlatch. It has to be before dark." Quil was talking fast again, getting every word in quickly.

"OK, Quil. Slow down. Are you sure 'Bixie' is ready for this?" I knew the answer to this. In the months since Quil had been living in her village I saw in his mind her growth and maturity. But Quil would need to answer this question and more before he was ready.

"Sure, sure. Her father has even let me do my service already. He knows it is inevitable because of what his wife told him. But I have to have my father…." His voice cracked with pain. His father had not made it out of his bed all winter. He had missed his daughter's wedding. "… or my family, that is you guys, bring the proposal and gifts to her family to make it official."

Although we were pretty distant cousins, we knew the brotherhood of the pack made us more than that.

"Of course, Quil," Levi replied. He clapped his left hand on Quil's shoulder. We followed the treeline back to the Ateara's house – my house too, now – where he had stowed the gifts he had prepared for Bixali's family. He sat down on his bed mats, woven fresh this spring in preparation for his return. He would have to wait here until we presented the gifts and found out if the marriage was agreeable.

Quil had made a bow and many arrows, several fishing nets, baskets (it looked like a woman had helped with these) and several items of clothing. Levi and I took the gifts and headed toward the beach where the Bella Coola mother and daughter were still standing, talking to some tribal elders and their wives. The shaman could see us coming and asked the woman next to her to show Bixie the tide pools north of the village.

"We ask, in behalf of Quil Ateara, for your daughter to be wed to Quil. He loves her and can provide for her," I said, holding the gifts so the shaman could examine them. She was methodical, looking over each item, testing it for durability and strength. This was part of the dance. Step left, step right. Each side of the potential marriage mirroring and testing the other.

"The chief is not here, but he has approved this marriage," the shaman responded. "The gifts are acceptable. Are your tribe and family prepared for this marriage?"

"Yes," I answered with confidence.

"Then let it be done tonight."

The shock registered on my face. A two year engagement was common for the Bella Coola. I was speechless. Levi saved me.

"If that is as the bride's family wishes, we have no objections," Levi said.

"Is it not to the benefit of each to marry?" the shaman said, quoting the ancients.

She made a motion with her hand and Levi and I followed her to the house placing the gifts on the mat near her bed mat. Spread out on the bed mat was a beautiful traditional deer dress and a shell-decorated veil. Next to it were baskets of red cedar bracelets. The shaman pulled some out and attached them to our wrists.

"If you are to attend the marriage, you must wear the bracelets," she explained. "Now go tell your brother to prepare. Tonight he marries his Bixie."

**October 2, 1902**

**We named our son Josiah. His cousin was born a month ago. She is named Pititchu, the moon girl. They live next door in the house Quil and I made. Mr. Ateara died.**

**February 28, 1905**

**Maggie named our daughter Alice. The women at her delivery did not tell her the child was born dead. Maggie died before the sun set. **

I was in the woods during Maggie's deliveries. The second time three-year-old little Josiah was at his cousin's house. I could feel the worry consume me, so I changed forms to give myself over to wolf worries instead. Quil saw me leave and within minutes he joined me.

_The time has come, huh? _he said, guessing the reason for my run at noon. _She will be fine. The women of the village have done this before you, know._

"Sure, sure." I didn't really feel like talking about it but didn't really have a choice. His thoughts were hopeful and filled with the joy of a young father. Piti and Josiah running at the beach. Bixie holding Piti and singing a Bella Coola lullaby. Tucking Piti into her bed, warm under wool and cedar blankets.

I decided to run north first. It was a slow pace and soon Quil caught up with me. He didn't address me, just ran alongside me keeping his thoughts calm. We found no cold ones and headed southeast, then northwest, circling back to the village. I stood at the edge of the woods near my house and listened. The women were hurrying around. There was no crying. At first I thought the time of the birth was still approaching but then I heard the women whispering. They were scared. 'Not breathing,' 'purple,' and 'too much blood' I heard. Then the sound of water boiling over the fire. The tin and brass tea kettle squealed and one of the women came to the fire to make tea, a medicine for women.

I decided it was time. I needed to know.

I changed into human form, Quil followed suit and went home to his family. He knew there was nothing he could do. Deep down, I knew it too but I needed to see with my own eyes. Auntie Hudson met me at the door with a bundle in her arms.

"Your daughter Alice is dead," she said handing me the bundle with the pale head and black hair exposed. Her lips were blue but the women had cleaned her so she was soft and smelled like baby. A tear nearly escaped my eye before I heard a moan. I returned the baby and went to Maggie's side. The room was not lit and the cloudy day cast shadows into the room. Even midafternoon, a cloudy day is a dark day. Her loose cotton dress was bunched up around her waist and there was a blanket thrown over her legs. But it could not hide the piles of soiled absorbent cedar mats and cotton rags. The room was a deathly shade of red, reflecting the piles at Maggie's feet.

"Isn't she beautiful?" she whispered. I knew then she had not known the baby was already dead. I could answer truthfully without telling her the truth.

"Yes, just like her mother. Big beautiful eyes and so soft." I bent over and kissed her forehead. She sighed, relaxed a little and closed her eyes. Her breath was shallow. Then absent. As her last breath left, her body sunk deeper into the bed, trying to disappear out of my life.

It was cloudy and windy when we buried them on Joseph Island. My father spoke the words needed. Josiah cried tears until his cheeks were wet and raw. As we got back on the canoes to go home, the rain started to fall. A bone-chilling cold and dreariness followed me across the water and into my house. Mrs. Ateara threw herself on her bed, crying and thrashing. I stopped to start the fire, bringing the only warmth available. I sat on the chair Maggie bought for me, and Josiah climbed up into my lap. I stroked his head and watched the fire dance and spit orange and red and yellow. The empty spot where my Maggie existed in my heart was black and cold. Hard and unmoving.

**September 8, 1908 **

**Josiah and Pititchu started school today. Quil and I caught two elk and a cold one.**

The Quileute Day School was a big white building. It is the largest building in La Push, the name of our village now, although some Shakers are hoping to build a church soon. Josiah and Piti were excited and scared as we walked down the dirt roads that ran between our house and the day school. They would run and jump around, then hide between their parents' legs, then get excited again. Quil, Bixie and I walked slower than we could. My thoughts were dark, wondering how much Maggie would have liked to be here today. Bixie looked terrified. The only schools she had heard about were the boarding kind. Quil and I reassured her that Piti would be there at the end of the day. She held Piti's hand tightly even as her daughter bobbed and weaved, stretching to laugh with Josiah and then hide behind the long skirts of her mother.

The dirt roads were hard and dotted with the occasional wagon rut. Yesterday's rain had pooled in places on the road, but we kept to the dry paths. The sun was shining, although the southern sky was already white with approaching clouds. Josiah danced in front of me and stopped, suddenly looking up at me with his mother's big brown eyes.

"It's OK, daddy. Nothing bad will happen." His confidence caused me to blink for a second. Then smile. I must have let my feelings show on my face long enough for him to notice. I nodded my head and we continued to school. His black hair almost reached his shoulders, bouncing as he jumped.

Once we got back to our homes, Quil walked Bixie over to weave baskets with Mrs. Ateara while Quil and I went hunting. The elk were out and I had gotten tired of the summer fish. I took my bow and Quil brought the 1906 Winchester he bought the last time he went to Port Angeles. It had a smooth and straight round metal barrel with a wooden end to rest on his shoulder. He could shoot a target from 100 yards, almost as good as my arrows.

The cedars and hemlock dripped yesterday's rain onto our heads as we silently stalked toward the elk clearing. The bluegrass has started to dry out and the elk gathered around it, peeling off the best parts with their teeth. We found a herd of about 35 and sat down to watch for a moment. The males had huge antlers, curving up from their faces like a large basket created by a child: loose and porous. Dark brown fur covered their bodies except at the rump.

I took out my arrow silently and looked over at Quil who brought the gun up to his eye. We had learned early on that if we took turns, our weapons warned the elk and caused them to scatter. So over the years we had been hunting together, we had worked out a system. A choreography that ensured both our families would have enough to eat. He looked at me from the corner of his eye and we counted to three. The bang of the gunpowder and the ping of the bow sent our weapons across the field and into two large bucks. The sounds spooked the other elk who reared up in several directions at once and then followed their migration path deeper into the woods.

Quil's elk fell first, but they both fell. Quil and I each picked up an elk: my arrow was easy to remove. He would spend more time pulling out bullets from the elk's chest. As we turned back toward the village, I smelled a sweet stench. I threw my elk under a thick cedar to protect it from the heat of the sun and then I was ready to change and fight. The cold one must have heard the gunshot and thought to make an easy meal of a distracted hunter.

Quil joined me in wolf form as we headed toward the smell, the still, sunny air allowing its direction to be found easily. Deep in the Olympic National Reserve, the sun shone through the tree branches in long glowing rays, hitting the ground and bouncing a green light in every direction. We could hear the cold one coming closer. _Slow down and take cover in the bushes_, I thought to Quil.

This was an area full of bushes and undergrowth. The salmonberry bushes were 10 and 12 feet tall here, bright green leaves hiding his gray fur. We ducked down under the bushes on either side of the only natural path the cold one might take. My brown fur clung slightly to the small thorns hidden throughout the bushes. I was glad they were not blackberry bushes with their much larger thorns.

The cold one was running and approaching us quickly. _When he reaches the space between us_, I decided.

_Sure, sure. Just save me an arm_, Quil responded. This cold one went down quickly with hardly a whimper or a fizzle. His ashes burned on a small pile of dead grass. I quickly stomped it out as the last of the flesh burned, safely putting it out.

We returned to our elk, safe in our own thoughts. We really were meant for bringing down those bloodloving monsters. I thought to myself how safe our village was now, even without Levi being able to run with Quil and me. I saw my elk still resting in the shade, almost as though it was asleep. I lugged its forefeet up over my shoulder and brought it home to dress. The antlers caught on the moss hanging down from the maple trees, making bright orange and yellow leaves fall slowly around me.

**August 30, 1912**

**Killed a cold one trying to create another cold one. He failed.**

Thesun had set in a dulling blur, sending a golden hue onto the tree trunks as I ran past them. I ran through the woods, away from my son now sleeping after a long day where I mostly avoided dealing with anything and anyone. Maggie's mother still lived with us and if I stayed in the house once Josiah was asleep, she would talk my ear off about what I was doing wrong. With Josiah, with hunting, even with Maggie's memory. So I ran. It was a weak man's way out, but I was feeling rather weak tonight.

The evening brought with it another patrol, another time to protect. The rhythmic thumping of my feet echoed with my heart. I practiced running lighter, silently, then with reckless abandon, changing the music my feet made. A sickly sweet smell struck my nose only a second before the sound of a scream. I quickly launched myself further south, closer to the village some pale faces had laid out near the forks of the river. It was really only a couple families with their cattle and hop fields, but they laid out straight dirt roads in neat patterns, planning for growth.

The smell and the screaming became unbearable as I approached the prairie. Still far enough from the pale face village that they could not be heard, the screams pierced my heart, because I knew what they meant. Then silence. And sobbing. Apologizing.

"I tried, my beauty, I really did. You would have been so beautiful if only I could have stopped," came the muttered apology between dry sobs.

I broke through the last tree and bushes in my way and caught sight of the cold one, his dark hair uncombed and unwashed. He was on the ground, holding a beautiful woman in a light pink dress. Her broad, brimmed hat was crushed under her feet and her tan hair was messy and almost falling out of its once tight bun. She stared at the sky with a blank fearful look. There were bloody teeth marks on her neck

"It's my fault. I tried. I so wanted to meet you," the monster holding her continued to moan. He did not seem to notice my approach until I was almost on top of him. He looked at me blankly and then returned his gaze to the woman in his lap. "So beautiful."

My teeth connected with his neck and I ripped off his head. He did not even raise his arms in protest. His body slunk back in defeat and fell onto the ground beside me. He was so sad, I felt a twinge of sympathy for him. But only for a second. I dropped his oozing head to the side and returned to my human form to remove the girl from his arms. Her heart was silent. I carried her to the side, leaned her against a fallen tree, and returned to the work of dismantling the cold one.

I tried to wrap my mind around the things he had been saying. So full of expectation ruined. He hadn't been trying to just devour her. He said he was trying to meet her. My teeth tore his arms off and then his legs. I piled them together and phased to human form to light the cold one. Then it hit me. He had been trying to make her like him. And he failed. She was dead because she had somehow captured the attention of this cold bloodloving monster. I shuddered and lit the pine needles on fire.

**November 5, 1916**

**Four people died in the last month. I couldn't save any of them.**

Pneumonia, Meningitis and Influenza took turns in our village, sometimes stepping into the territory and time of the other. The doctor who came to our village in a 1911 Cadillac along the new road between here and Forks said Mother was sick with meningitis. But it was pneumonia for Mrs. Ateara and my 6 year old niece Rose had influenza. I could not figure out why the name mattered. No matter what the fevers came and then the chills and pain and then the death.

The wolf Protectors do not get sick, so Quil and I spent a lot of time cooling foreheads and warming feet. Bixie, Piti, Josiah and my Father helped where they could. Piti was especially good at keeping the water boiling for teas and to relieve chills. We had three weeks of death and then the funerals. A small piece of my joy died with each one, I began to feel as dead inside as they did.

After a week, fourteen year old Josiah and I went hunting. Mrs. Ateara had taught him a lot about keeping a house running, but it was hard to teach hunting after school. So once Saturday and Sunday came, we took to the woods.

It was a cloudy day, overcast and cold. Josiah wore his thick wool collared coat with the thin grey stripes. It was late for bear, but I hoped to get lucky and catch one before he found a place to sleep, or at least catch a beaver. We borrowed Quil's gun, so Josiah and I each had one. Mine was a .270 Remington and was a nicer gun by far. Mrs. Ateara could never tell the difference: "Both metal and wood" she used to say. She never really warmed up to me. Her death did not remove the distaste I felt from her.

I watched my lanky son hike ahead of me, watching the ground for indications of animals ahead of us. He found a few beaver tracks near a stream.

"How about we catch a beaver?"

"Sure, sure," I agreed. The paw prints crossed over the stream, and Josiah and I followed. The rocks were wet and covered with thick green moss. We could see the dam up ahead, widening the stream beyond to nearly a pond size. I nudged Josiah's shoulder and pointed out the beaver. He cocked his gun and took aim. I took aim next to him, just in case he missed the shot. He didn't.

We picked our way up the stream's shoreline toward the fallen beaver, its small black eyes staring up at the clouds. When we were half way there, I smelled something to be feared. A cold one trail in the grasses at our feet. It stung my nose with its sweet familiarity. It was fresh: probably only an hour old. I weighed my options. The trail was leading up to the north, away from the village and my son's catch. My wolf instincts said to follow it, to chase and destroy the monster. My paternal instincts said I should stay here and let the cold one be someone else's problem. The wolf did not like that. I growled at my own nonchalance and the decision was made for me. _I_ was the wolf Protector, not someone else.

I got Josiah started on the beaver and told him I had to go do something. I made him promise to stay there until I got back.

Getting out of eyesight behind the only thing left with foliage: a stand of pine trees, I changed to wolf form. I almost howled for Quil to help me, but I realized that would probably scare Josiah. I wanted him to stay as quiet and still as he could. I launched into high speed, following the meandering trail. The cold one seemed distracted, the scent trail grazing over bushes and meadows with dried grass and flowers. But I was getting closer, I was sure of that at least. Suddenly, a steep riverbank stopped me. The trail vanished. It was 15 feet across.

I backed up to get a running start. Nothing else came to mind. I had forgotten every concern except tracking down and destroying this cold one who could leap across such a gorge. I started to run toward the gorge, as fast as I could and landed clinging to the grass and dirt at the far side. The dirt was moist and rich with smells, mostly unpleasant. I pulled myself up and sniffed around for the cold one's trail. All of a sudden, I saw something from the corner of my eye. A flash of white and black bolted across the gorge 100 yards east of me. He hit the ground and ran fast, back toward the village and… my son.

I tipped my head back and howled out a warning. I hoped that Quil would find my son and soon. I ran into the woods and turned again to make the leap back. The cold air hurling underneath my furry tummy froze my blood. I was gripped with terror and it was hard to hear my heart beating at all. This time I judged the distance better and landed with all 4 paws on solid ground. I started to run.

Brown trunks surrounded me as I dashed quickly around trees and bushes dead in their winter form. I could smell the cold one ahead of me and knew I was getting closer. I felt a shimmer as Quil entered the wolf mind.

_This better not be a drill. I am missing the Athletic Club meeting, _Quil thought as soon as he changed. He loved competing with the other men in the village and sometimes even let someone else win.

_A cold one is heading toward the village and Josiah is by Kwo'od stream_. I remembered the beaver he had caught and knew he would still be there. _I am chasing him but he might get to the stream before I do. _

_I'm on it, _Quil thought with confidence_. _

We ran in silence for several seconds and then I saw through Quil's eyes the last thing I ever wanted to see. A cold one had his teeth at my son's neck, the body limp and the neck broken. I reached the stream a second later in time to see the cold one look up in surprise at Quil, the big gray wolf. I took this moment to leap at the cold one, ripping his head off in one quick bite against his head. I tossed the head to the ground and dragged the lifeless cold one corpse away from my son. Quil made quick work of an arm and then turned to me.

_You should change back._

I spit out the disgusting cold one remnant from my mouth and turned to look at my son, broken and motionless. Tears started to leak out of my eyes. I willed the fur to recede, to leave me with my son and the wolf obeyed. I knelt beside him and held him while Quil ripped and piled, then changed and burned.

It was too much. Too much loss, too much stolen, too much taken away. I pushed back my son's black hair, revealing his eyes, closed and cold. I felt everything inside my chest break and disappear, leaving darkness and a burning fire.

Author's note:

Quilete word I have used as a name:

Pititchu - moon


	7. Chapter 7

Jacob's heart hurt. It hurt as though it had been his son, his daughter and his wife's deaths he had just experienced. He closed his eyes in pain. Seconds passed. He opened them again and turned the aged page.

**September 25, 1918**

**At first, I didn't want to bring my wolf journal to France. Now I am glad I did. I killed my first cold one here. I realized I have not been very specific in this journal. My military training has shown me how easily orders are misunderstood or ignored when they are vague. So here are some things you should always remember:**

**1. The power to become a wolf is passed down from Taha Aki to protect our people. Do not be afraid of what you are.**

**2. You can heal from almost any injury, you will never get sick. You will get hungry.**

**3. Cold ones (or vampires as they say in English) are bloodthirsty, hateful monsters.**

**4. Arm removal makes the battle easier.**

**5. Avoid the teeth.**

I looked out over the dark ground. I guessed it used to be a field, but it was covered in dirt and mud and barbed wire. It was night, although the daylight doesn't make much difference here in the trenches. The black turned to brown, but still the mud and blood and dread remain.

The smell was the hardest for me. I didn't think I would ever forget the smell of a thousand men hiding in a trench for weeks. The sweat and rotten garbage gets into everything. I looked down to the end of the trench, waiting for the signal. Even in the darkness, I could see O'Malley's small wave. I repeated the motion to the men behind me and we climbed up over the edge and inched forward.

We were moving forward to the wooded section of the battlefield, to wait until we would go to the front trenches. These woods had been used by French and German troops alike over the last four years and they were thinner than they used to be, undergrowth had been burned and some trees were missing altogether. But the hilly ravines protected most of it and the battles concentrated on moving toward the trenches. We moved at night. The army usually rotated the front man between the brigades and platoons, but the CO had noticed I could see things in the dark others could not. He attributed it to the fact that I was an "Injun" and made it my permanent assignment. I did not mind though, it was better than being led by someone who could not see.

I jumped over a mud puddle, hoping that was all it was and motioned for the men behind me to do the same.

I thought back to jumping over another puddle, this one at Camp Lewis, still within running distance of home. What a crazy fluke that I had been drafted at all. Indians on reservations were exempt from the draft. I had been in town when a draft registrar had been taking names for all the boys in Port Angeles and assumed from my shopping clothes that I lived in town. I filled out his darn form with my correct age, which I thought would stop him for sure. Instead he took one look at me and erased the 48, making it 23. Apparently I did not know my own age.

I probably could have gotten an exemption even then, provided some proof of my age or tribal connection. But I felt too empty to even put up a fight. Nothing seemed to matter, not even the war on the horizon. A part of me thought this would be an easy way to end my own misery, to distract myself from the pain or succumb to it. Now with the mud crusted on my unfamiliar boots and the running breaths of the men behind me, I could almost forget the dead faces of my families and friends. So I allowed myself to be drafted into the 91st infantry division (Wild West Division) and trained for almost 10 months at Camp Lewis.

The train to New Jersey took 6 days and the boat ride took 12. I arrived on the shores of France 4 months ago. We had training and drills in France too, endless drills. Marching, shooting, saluting, dressing, everything had to be practiced. We even practiced putting on gas masks: both French and British, although I don't think either would have protected us from much.

Our orders to head to the frontlines had been changed three times during the night. We packed and unpacked our small packs each time. I felt the weight of the leather journal as I moved my other things in and out of the pack. It was wrapped the in leg of a pair of pants I had ripped several months ago. I didn't take it out, I could not imagine needing it here so far from my village. The knees of our pants were caked with mud: most of it dried. But the drills and constant changing of orders was nothing compared to the days of shells falling around us. Some nights the sky was alight with the falling rockets every three minutes.

But it was calm as I skulked forward past the skeletons left of trees at the edge of the forest. Rain came down in a constant stream, reminding me of my hometown weather. It felt the same, but did not smell the same. Oak, beech and ash trees lined the miles of trenches and underground caverns dug by both sides. Fire and bullets had removed the leaves and branches of many trees. This part of France is hilly and used to be green. We headed deeper into the woods, hundreds of men following me as I picked my way through a wild boar path.

We heard a bugle sound and quickly ducked down, covering our heads. The German plane passed overhead, seeking to know our position. After several seconds, we crouched up and continued deeper into the woods. I felt a tug on my shirt and stopped. This was the spot the Sergeant had chosen to set up camp. Our drills paid off as most of the men could set up their tents in the dark now, trying to get out of the rain before they got too cold. Some men complained of trench rot, even though they had not spent more than a week in a trench. I felt antsy and not quite ready to move on yet. After gaining permission from the sarge, I set off with my Springfield at my side. I kicked empty tins of French monkey meat out of my way. My nose told me it was beef, but I had to agree with the other soldiers: it tasted like monkey.

The wet woods and smells of garbage and of death were joined by another stench, this one too sweet and too awful. A cold one had been here. I followed the trail further, until I was out of sight of the other men, resting in their tents or taking a break to eat something. I came across the body of a German soldier, left wounded after the last retreat. It had been sucked dry. I decided the cold one had been here only a few hours ago. I felt my hands shake slightly, but I calmed myself down. I could do nothing for this man now. I pushed on, a little faster now, wondering how far this trail would go.

It curved slightly back toward our last position, then straightened out again. The full force of the vampire stench hit me then. I could see him just ahead: wearing the uniform of at least three different countries, all stolen from victims. His back was toward me but I knew from experience he could hear my heartbeat. He knew this winding forest path better than I did, but out of it, I could be seen from either side, in human or wolf form.

Before I could decide on a course of action, the cold one turned and started to chase toward me, his eyes full of red hate. I threw down my gun and unlaced my boots, kicking them off before I phased, grateful for the hours of phase practice I had done with my Father and later with Quil. My boots were left in a pile on the muddy ground, but my clothes had been shredded. Shoes are always the hardest to get off quickly, especially when they lace up to my knees, but I knew I would have a hard time finding replacements in my size out here.

The cold one stopped in his place, a look of confusion on his face. The wolf me ran forward and leaped up on him, throwing him to the ground and taking of an arm with my teeth. I followed Levi's example and removed his head next, silencing him. The rest came apart quickly. A surprised cold one was less scary to me than all the Machine guns across the field from me.

I loped back to my tattered clothes and phased, finding my army issue matches. I piled some of the garbage left behind in the woods – dirty clothes, low sided tins, some wax paper and pages from some magazines. I piled these on top of the cold one parts and lit a fire.

The moon shed a little more light than I would have hoped, but the smoke from falling rockets and shells hid most of the vampire smoke. The sky was still full of clouds, but it was fine. It reminded us in the 91st of home. Even our first day to Argonne seemed to be right up our alley. The other soldiers slipped in the falling rain and knee high mud. We smiled at the familiar sound of boots sucking mud. It sounded like Washington.

I pulled a new pair of socks out of my bag and started hunting around in it for new clothes. I was down to only one outfit, and it should have been washed. I slipped on the stiff putrid shirt and muddy pants. My boots were damp and muddy now, and lacing them up took some effort. Finally dressed, I continued on past the burning pile to make sure nothing else was lurking in the rest of the forest. After assuring myself we were alone, I headed back to the rest of the guys.

**April 20, 1919**

**My military service has ended. My father is frail. Quil has trained a new Wolf Protector: the youngest Uley boy.**

It was 7 am by the time I drove my 1917 Model TT truck back from Forks. The sun was struggling to come up over the top edge of the trees surrounding the dirt road. The truck my veterans' pay and bonus had allowed me to buy rumbled along at a jolting 35 miles per hour. It probably could have gone faster, but I saw no need. It was only the second automobile in La Push, and I was pressed into driving whenever people wanted to go somewhere. I rode in army vehicles a lot in France but never as a driver. The power of the three foot pedals and multiple gears was more exhilarating than I admitted.

I rolled down the windows before we left the dance hall, hoping to air it out from the smell of alcohol emanating from the passenger and the piles of girls and boys in the back of the truck. They all felt like children to me. They were all 17 to 30 years old, all just wanting to dance and have fun. If the fact that I was technically 50 years old underneath my twenty year old face didn't make me feel old, the fact that I had been overseas only a few months ago, living through the awfulness of war I hoped none of them would ever experience sure did. Like an old man in a teenager's body, driving all the teenagers home.

The dance hall was supposed to be dry, in preparation for the upcoming Prohibition, but the dancers instead saw this as a last chance to partake and had done so freely. The boys and girls in the back bunched up in pairs and trios, sleeping and dozing on the trip home. With a quick glance I could take in everything about all of them, but not dwell for more than a second. They wore their Sunday best, as it was called, low-waisted dresses and collars for everyone. The girls wore their hair up, not as bold as a few girls in Forks who had read the catalogs and cut their hair to match the models. But rounded short-brimmed hats and white stockings were worn by all the girls.

Not that any of them stood out to me: of the boys or the girls. I kept an extra close eye on George Uley, as his father had asked me to, but the boy was 18, hardly needing looking after. His temper got the best of him only once, but my hand on his shoulder was all it took to calm him down. Quil had done a good job filling in for me. Now that I was Alpha again, Quil stepped behind as beta as though I had been there all along.

We drove past a stand of maples and oaks and my attention flicked to the trees, searching behind them for German soldiers with guns. For the hundredth time I convinced myself there were none there and kept on driving. LaPush came into view as the sun tried hopelessly to warm the rooftops and treetops. I stopped first at the end of town and parked the truck. I turned around to stare out the back window but no one stirred. I climbed out and shook the bundled knees gently.

"We are in La Push. Get up and go home." Three dancers got out and stumbled toward their homes. I continued on and repeated the pattern three more times, ending up outside Levi Uley's house. George brushed himself off and jumped out of the truck bed. "You are on patrol at 6 pm tonight. Get some sleep," I said. Protecting the borders of our village had become more regimented since my return from France. We did not patrol 24/7 they way we had in the war but to George and Quil sometimes it felt like it.

"You should come in and meet Baby Sally. Mom has been wanting to show her off to you. Her first grandbaby and all, you know," George replied, echoing his mother's pleading.

"Sure, sure," I answered. It was early after all and my father would still be asleep. There was no one for me to rush home to.

I removed my rimmed felt hat and ducked through the wooden door. Levi had added on to his lumbered house, making three bedrooms and even an indoor plumbed sink. Sarah was a lucky woman. Levi and Sarah were already awake and they looked up from their breakfast as we entered.

"Ephraim, how's it going? Did my boy give you any trouble?" Levi said as he arose and clasped his left hand on my shoulder. Since Levi had stopped changing into wolf form, he has started to age, and even got sick occasionally. My friend now looked almost old enough to be my father. I smiled easily at him.

"No troubles. He wouldn't let me leave though without meeting his little niece," I said shifting my hat from one hand to the other. I had been gone overnight and was a little anxious to run a wolf patrol. Left over military vigilance I suppose.

"Oh, of course. George is so proud of baby Sally, you'd think he was a brother again and not an uncle." Levi led me over to a wooden crib near the fireplace. His two youngest daughters, not yet teenagers, jumped up and huddled around their favorite toy: two year old Sally Hudson. Levi's oldest three children were all married, leaving just George and the younger girls at home. Ruth had married Matthew Hudson, a man whose mother was Quiluete, but who was raised in Port Angeles where his Virginian father repaired boats and siding. Sally was still sleeping, wrapped up in a multicolored quilt. Her little aunties started to coo and rub her chubby arms, causing Baby Sally to open her eyes.

At that moment, gravity seemed to change. The power to hold my feet to the ground shifted from the center of the earth to the being of Sally Hudson. Her light brown eyes could see through me, pierce to my heart. I loved her like my sister and my daughter and something more I could not place. She was the reason I was a protector. It was her that needed protecting. From heartache and pain and evil and everything. She reached her fat little arms up to me and I lifted her, hugging her as though I had returned home from a long journey.

_Sally. The name of my home is Sally._

**January 17, 1927**

**My father died. The wolf protectors killed a pair of vampires. Sally has learned to read.**

It was raining. It had been raining for nearly a week. The roads were sloshy and full of deep, bone-bouncing puddles. The man from Tacoma on the radio box said we got three inches one day alone, in addition to several inches everyday before and after it. I had driven to Port Angeles hoping for a change of scenery, but rain falling on cedars looked the same there. I drove back to La Push, and I was waiting for school to be over. My truck and I lumbered over to the school and I waited for Sally to come out.

She wore her hair in two short braids pulled tight on either side of her head with flouncy white bows covering most of her head and matching her dress. Her hand-me- down coat was rolled up at the sleeves. She smiled and waved in my direction, then ran over to the truck and climbed in.

"How was your day?" I asked my nine year-old friend.

"Boring," came her reply. "The teacher made us write yesterday's spelling words again 'cuz he forgot what page we were on." She wrinkled her nose in frustration. "Plus I already knew how to spell those words."

"I am sorry, little Flower. What should we do today? Do you want to go for a drive before we do your homework?"

"No," Sally said with a glint in her eye. "I think we should go clamming!" Her excitement was contagious and she knew I never told her no. I hadn't thought to check the tide tables this morning, so I drove toward the beach to check in person.

"Well, maybe," I say, "we will have to check to make sure it is low tide first. There is no point clamming if it's high tide."

I turned my truck toward the ocean and parked just off the dirt road, before the sand and reeds began. We left my truck at the edge of the beach and grabbed some buckets and digging sticks from the back. I trudged down to the water while Sally ran ahead, looking over her shoulder to make sure I followed. The ocean bounced with raindrops and swayed with the waves. Always moving and never changing. A cold wind cut through my wool military jacket, reminding me of the rainstorm from our first battle on the front. It started to get heavy on my shoulders and I tapped my hand holding the bucket handle on my overalls to remind me I was in a different place now.

Sally slowed when she reached the edge of the water and bent over, peering at the sand and walking very slowly, looking for a small hole. She walked slowly for a few minutes, her bows getting droopy with water. Finally she stopped, pointing at the ground, and looked up with a big goofy grin.

"Found one!" she exclaimed. I walked over and handed her the digging stick. The digging was her favorite part. She thrust the stick into the ground and quickly started digging after the fleeing clam. After the first few digs with the stick, she put it aside and started to dig with her hands, each scoop bringing up a handful of wet, dark sand. I crouched down next to her, bucket ready. With one final plunge into the hole, she pulled up a sandy gray clamshell with the mussel pulled out of each side. Slowly the clam pulled itself back into the shell and tried to hide. Sally tossed the clam in my bucket and picked up the stick, looking for more air holes.

When we had found 14 clams, her fingers started to shiver and I told her it was time to go home. She forced her hands into her pockets and claimed she wasn't cold yet.

"Well, maybe not, but if you expect your mother and grandmother to make these for dinner, we need to get them back to your house soon." The prospect of actually eating the clams she had found lightened her step and she beat me to the truck. I climbed into the Old Model T and started it up. It resisted and growled, but finally relented. I put the clam bucket between us and reversed toward the Uley house.

Sally climbed out of the truck and dragged the clams out the other side of the truck. I quickly ran to her side and helped her lower it down.

"I can do it!" she said with force. I smiled and held onto the handle with her.

"Let's bring them in together," I told her. She looked at me angrily, but did not say anymore. I opened the door with one hand, holding it open above her while Sally trudged in, the bucket getting heavier now that she had carried it 25 feet. She plopped it down on the kitchen floor and smiled up at her mother. Ruth looked up from her cutting board, a little surprised at the bucket.

"Clams, huh? I was wondering what we would have with our parsnips and carrots," she said continuing to chop the long slender vegetables from her garden. "Lift them up into the sink, Ephraim, so we can wash them off. Sally, you need to wash your hands, dear."

I lugged the bucket over to the sink and let Sally finish with her hands before I sent the clams tumbling into the large metal sink. We stood shoulder to hip, rinsing off the clams, scrubbing all the sand off the outside. When there were only a few left, I asked Ruth if she wanted me to open them, too.

"No, we can do that. I am sure you have someplace to be." Even though Ruth had never seen me or her father phase, she knew I left every evening to patrol. Her father had become the main storyteller at bonfire events and potlatches, and sometimes I thought she believed his stories more than she let on.

I smiled and said, "It's true, but I don't mind staying to help as long as you need it."

"No, we are fine. Mother likes to have something she can do sitting down and I think it is time Sally learns how to open them up, too. You go ahead and we'll see you later."

I wiped my hands dry on my denim overalls and ruffled Sally's hair until there was a black halo on top of her head. "Hey!" she said, trying to straighten her hair back down and failing. I smiled a joyful smile and headed out the door.

I drove to my empty house and left the truck beside it. I thought about going inside , but realized there was nothing in there I needed. I walked straight to the woods and hid behind the trees, stripping and leaving my overalls in a pile, I attached just a shirt and my underclothes to my leg. Overalls were much too bulky to attach with a cord.

I took to wolf form and started to head south, down the edge of town then to the cliffs where I could see out across the ocean. Further and further I ran, hoping to finish my patrol without incident. We had gone years without a cold one attack, and that is how I like it.

_Aw, are you telling me you don't like the foaming hate that fills your mouth when you rip off the arm of a vicious vampire? _Quil joked.

_Hey Quil, how is it going? _I thought and he gave me a mental rundown of his patrol. Lots of elk and rabbits._ Thanks, _I thought, rolling my eyes. I slowed as I reached the edge of the treeline. The new Highway 101 cut right through our patrol area, drawing almost a circle around the Olympic National Forest. I ran closer to the cliff, staying in the shadow of the trees separating the highway from the water.

_Yeah, or you could just cross the road, O great Alpha. _Quil's sense of humor had not softened in the years he had been a wolf protector. He took the responsibility seriously, but only barely.

_Go home to your family_, I thought to Quil. _You're on patrol at 5 am_.

_I remember. OK, I will catch you later. Do you think you left me any clams down at the beach?_

_Yeah, there are a few,_ I assured him. He loved responding to my thoughts and memories as though we had a conversation about it. He left the mindspace soon after that and I reached the part of the forest where the highway veers away from the ocean. I ran ten more miles and headed east, making a big square that included the Olympic National Forest. It was easy to be concealed between the thick trees and lumbering blackberry bushes. Plus it was a great place for dinner.

I had started eating out in the woods after my Father died. There was no one at home to cook for anymore and it just seemed easier. I came to the 101 again, and this time stopped to cross it. The road was silent, so I bounded across and continued heading east.

My father's funeral had been a dark affair. The canoe rides out to James Island had resulted in almost everyone being wet from head to toe. The canoes splashed water up at us and the rain plummeted from above. I stood among the people of the tribe and they all shivered with cold and grief. I allowed the tears to fall for a few minutes, mixing hot tears with cold rain.

He had been the chief forever and now the elders were looking to me to step into his place. I had decided to decline but was not sure how to tell them. Since the federal government had made all Indians "American citizens" over two years ago, there had been rumbles reaching us about changing the structure of tribes. I was not a politician and was pretty sure all of that was over my head.

The rain slowed and stopped as I entered the lush canopy of the forest. I took in a deep breath and smelled deer to the north. I continued running, hoping to find elk.

When the trees started to thin, I turned north, keeping away from the other side of the highway and the towns cropping up near lumber camps and company land. The terrain became mountainous, more fun to leap down but harder to run fast through. I smelled what I was looking for and took a break from the wide patrol to chase down a black tailed deer or two for dinner.

As I finished my patrol and headed back towards La Push, I dodged trees and scared a few squirrels, sending them scurrying up the nearest tree. The sun had nearly set and twilight was approaching. When I reached the 101 again, I slowed and watched a few cars zoom by. A dark maroon Chrysler with bright lights followed by an old Model T, lumbering a lot slower. I heard two more coming, this time from Forks to the south. Before the first could pass me, I smelled a vampire. Two. I snuck forward and knew the smell was coming from the highway.

The first car passed, an older man with a gray suit in a gray 1925 Lincoln. Not a vampire. The smell got stronger and I let out a loud howl, hoping it would carry to the human ears of the wolf protectors. Around the corner came a dark green Ford, with the windows open and two loud vampires, their heads out the windows, yelling every once in a while. A blond male was driving, a huge ridiculous smile on his face. The female had a short black bob, curling at her ears. They seemed to be celebrating something.

I flashed through the faces of all the cold ones I had killed, their eyes red and black, their bodies torn apart by me, by my wolf brothers. Then I saw their victims. Ptle'la, her brown face drained and sallow, the unknown girl in the alley, Josiah with his gun cast to the side and the German soldier, left dry and dead in a forest. George joined the wolf mindspace as I shook off the last images of pain and death. _George, I am north of Forks at the highway. They are in a car. _I thought of the Ford, with its square top and wood detailing so he could see them too.

_I am on my way, _he assured me. I knew there was no way he could be fast enough. The car was approaching quite quickly. I went with the first plan I could think of. I ran out in front of the car, stood on all four paws in the middle of the highway and stared them down with a vicious snarl. The driver was alarmed and swerved the car to one side of the highway and then the other, trying to see his way around the giant wolf in the road.

"Damn!" I heard him say. He swung the steering wheel again and sent his car over the edge of the road into the left embankment full of grass. The uneven ground slowed the vehicle and he put on the brakes just after he crashed into a tree. "What the hell was that?" he asked.

They both urgently looked around, back to the road. I raced toward them and the passenger screamed. The driver's defense instinct kicked in and he opened the door and leaped over the car toward me. I had enough time to rip off her right arm before he threw me backwards and I landed on my back on the road. I was stunned motionless for a few seconds before I could spit out her oozing arm and turn over, back onto my legs. The vampire was crouched down in front of the car door, his red eyes glinting with anger and the need to protect.

_Are you all right, Ephraim?_

_Yeah, I am going to try again. How close are you?_ In answer, I saw the trees zip past George in his thoughts. He was running as fast as he could, but it would still probably be at least 2 minutes before he would get there to help me. I glared at the vampire in front of me and tried to come up with a plan. The fir trees cast long shadows over the car and reached all the way to where I was standing, connecting us with darkness.

"Martin, my arm! Get my arm! What is that thing?" The female was almost crying, her left hand on his shoulder, shaking it rapidly.

"It's a wolf, Gertrude. But it's a lot bigger than the ones from Michigan. And stronger, too. Stay in the car.

Then I had my plan. They thought I was a simple wolf: a dumb animal. I could play that game, easily. I shifted out of attack mode and sat my tail down, inching over a little so I covered most of her arm. Then, I stuck out my tongue and panted, trying to look friendly.

'Martin' eased up a little bit and took the bait. "See? He was just scared. You are a good doggy, aren't you?" He started to inch toward me, angling toward her arm. I turned on the charm, counting down the minutes until George would arrive to help me. I thumped my tail, scattering pebbles with the wind it created.

_Hurry up George,_ I thought. I could see the douglas firs and cedars whizz past him. He was close. He burst through the trees 200 yards to the south of us. _Idiot! Couldn't you smell us, you should have come closer through the woods first! _I reprimanded.

_Sorry, I got here as fast as I could. _The sight and sound of another giant wolf lumbering toward him convinced the vampire that perhaps I was not a friendly doggy. He lunged forward, reaching for the severed arm_. _ I turned and jumped out at him, sinking my teeth into the side of his body. He threw me back and then George leaped up onto him and snapped off an arm. I spit out the cotton shirt and granite skin and yanked off his other arm. 'Gertrude' started to scream and her volume pierced my eardrums. I yanked off his head with my teeth then turned to her.

The car did not appear to have any windows: just openings on the sides above the doors. She scrambled over to the driver's seat, one armed and terrified. _I hate it when they look so scared_, George thought and he tore off the remaining limbs of the male.

_Yeah, your dad always hated that too. _

The female vampire huddled behind the steering wheel. I wondered how my teeth would fare against the steel and wood edges of the car. Like opening a can of sardines? Or something painful and bloody? Sure I would heal quickly, but why go through the pain if I didn't have to?

_Should I light this one up or wait until she is dead too? _George wondered_._

_I think we should drag the parts deeper into the woods. Another car could come by at any time. I will help you. I don't think she is going anywhere_. The front end of the car was squished. George and I tuned back toward the pieces of white limbs and broken granite-like flesh and began to pull them behind three or four rows of trees to an opening large enough for the two of us. He got a strange look on his face, concentrating too hard, then changed back into human form. He slipped on his cotton pants and a small metal rectangle flipped out from his pants and landed in front of me.

I stepped forward, sniffing hesitantly. It smelled like gasoline. I stepped back and looked up at George, who was digging in his pocket. He looked up at me and I pointed at this missing metal object with my nose.

"Oh thanks." He picked it up and then realized I was staring at him. He sheepishly explained, "It's a friction lighter. Never gets too wet to light." And with that he opened the box, flicked his thumb and lit the pine needles, wood and cold one on fire.

I heard the engine of a car turn over and realized 'Gertrude' was trying to escape. From the sound of the engine, it was not going to work, but I turned and ran back to the car anyway.

She looked like she was crying and banging the steering wheel. But when she saw me, her face turned to anger. Her vampire instincts were kicking in. She reached down across her body with her remaining left arm, between the two front seats and pulled out a tommy gun. Suddenly I was no longer in Washington. The fields of France opened up before me and soldiers on both sides pointed machine guns with 800 rounds per minute coming across the muddy trenches. The woman's bobbed hair morphed into a german helmet and the hate in her eyes pointed at me. She put her arm outside the window, shaking a little. And she was no longer a soldier, but still an enemy. She pulled the trigger, shooting straight for only a second before the gun pulled up, throwing her back slightly. I felt warmth explode on my snout, but took my chance in her confusion, and lunged forward, ripping off her firing arm. My red blood painted the arm as I threw it to the ground and returned for another bite, but I was unable to reach anything.

George came running on two legs and stopped short of the door. Despite the blood on my nose, I wanted to finish. George reached out and opened the car door, exposing the vampire's low-waisted pink dress. I reached in and pulled her out with my teeth. The rest of the job finished quickly. George picked up the arms and legs and I dragged the torso back to the fire incinerating her companion. Once the flames caught onto her body, I stopped to evaluate my injuries. It hurt. Pain shot through my nose.

Back in human form, George looked scared as he stared at the blood falling off my nose and hitting the ground in ghastly pools. I held my shirt up to my nose instead of putting it on and hoped the bleeding would slow.

A siren sounded, a police car zooming up the highway from Forks. We couldn't be found here.

"You need to let Bixie look at your nose. I wanna stay here and see what they know about these two." George said, pleading with his eyes.

"Sure, sure, I can get back no problem. Stay in wolf form, in the shadows. Don't let them see you." I turned and started to jog back toward the village. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but I could feel my face was having a hard time healing. I increased my speed and found myself in my underwear knocking on the Ateara's door, hoping her two youngest children were already asleep.

"Quil, is asleep, Ephraim, and I am not going to…" Bixie answered the door in a white nightgown with her black hair pulled back in two long braids, a few white strands refusing to lay flat. Her eyes widened immeasurably when she saw me and her mouth centered in a silent O. "Have you been shot?" she finally asked.

I told her the short version as she led me to the kitchen and dipped a clean towel in her water bucket. She removed my hand and shirt from my face and got to work. She was not a Shaman like her mother had been, that was not something we really had in our tribe for decades. But she had learned enough from her childhood to be a kind of medicine woman for our tribe. Especially for the wolf protectors. We are limited in our choices of doctors.

"There are bullets in there, Ephraim. I am afraid you are not going to heal up right unless I can get them out. Let me get you something for the pain." Bixie turned to the cupboards Quil had made for her and reached up on tip toes to the glass bottle on the top shelf. The clear orange liquid sloshed on the sides. She pulled down a glass canning jar and poured me half a cup. The whisky stung my throat all the way down.

Quil came in the kitchen rubbing his eyes. He saw me slam the glass down with one hand and flinch in pain as the force vibrated through my body. "I'll get your tools," he told his wife and went back to the bedroom while she poured me another glass.

"Two ought to do it," she said, without confidence. Getting drunk was impossible for me, as months of trying after Josiah's death had proved, but she and I both hoped a little buzz was not. Quil returned with a brown suitcase and Bixie opened it up, reaching for a long pair of pliers. Quil held my arms and I closed my eyes, pretending to be anywhere but here. I felt a wooden rod in my mouth lengthwise. "Bite down," Bixie ordered and I obeyed.

I heard the metal bullets hit the table, one, two, three. Then silence. The pain was awful, digging and over. I opened my eyes and Bixie looked satisfied. "Alright, you. Your face is healing up already, but you should get home and rest. No more patrolling for at least 24 hours."

I thought about talking back, something about who did she think the Alpha was, but George burst in, all out of breath. The cold wind hit all of us and banged the door against the wall.

"They were bank robbers!" George yelled.

"Who was what?" Quil asked, closing the door behind the teenager.

"The two cold ones robbed a bank and the police found their car with all the money in the back and they found the blood and figured it was theirs and the ashes looked like wood, so they are searching the woods for the bleeding crooks and," George said before he took a breath, "the car was stolen too."

I tried to smile, but half of my face felt paralyzed. Probably because there was still a gaping hole there. But then I kicked into Alpha mode. "George, go tell your folks you are staying the night at my house. I don't want to have to answer the door if the policemen decide to canvas La Push. No more patrols until they have given up the hunt. I don't want anyone freaking out and shooting a wild wolf."


	8. Chapter 8

**July 3, 1931**

**We lost a wolf protector. The cold one did not get away.**

It was Quil's turn to patrol. But Bixie had just had her fifth baby: Quil, Jr. His father couldn't tear his eyes away from the wrinkly skin and big brown eyes that blinked at him. Bixie was doing fine, although Quil, Jr. was a surprise. "Thought I was past all this stuff," Bixie said with a twinkle in her eye that told me she would not change a second of it. I reviewed the sight in my mind, thinking of a question I could ask Quil once he arrived.

As I neared the end of my patrol, George joined the mindspace instead of Quil. He had pleaded for George to take his place, promising to do two of his in a row. George was thinking of the upcoming holiday and dancing in Port Angeles while fireworks exploded above him, an unknown woman in his arms. _Quil couldn't tear himself away_, he thought.

_Sure, sure,_ I replied with a chuckle, _and you were only too happy to oblige. Two in a row indeed._ I gave him a rundown of the patrol I had run and then turned back to the village, thoughts of a certain 13 year old invading my mind.

_Go home to your imprint, Ephraim. I am ready to go. I feel like I could run all night. _

I raced back to the village, knowing that it was nearly time for dinner at the Hudson/Uley house. Matthew Hudson had been cutting trees at one of the lumber camps for years, but he got holidays off to spend with his family. Sally always got so excited when he came home, it was impossible for her to talk of anything else. She had invited me to join them at her "Daddy's home dinner" which she planned and cooked herself. She begged me to catch an elk and we had spent all her time after school this week picking huckleberries, blueberries and currants. Her mother and grandma Uley helped her make them into gelatin and pies and jams.

I reached the stand of berry bushes behind my house and changed to human form, slipping on my shorts and shirt, then scooping up my overalls and running in the back door to change into something that did not smell like a running wolf and the rabbit I had for lunch.

I pulled on my best white button-up shirt and a pair of suspenders. My brimmed hat was still the right shape, although Sally teased me and said it was old fashioned. I pulled on clean black socks and shiny shoes that hurt my toes if I wore them for more than a few hours. After a quick comb and a glance in the mirror, I ran out the door.

I admitted to myself that I was excited. It had been over 9 hours since I had seen Sally and the times away seemed to be getting more painful. More lengthy. I knocked on Levi's door. The door opened, revealing Levi's gray hair and thinning shoulders. He greeted me, returning my formalness with formalness. His right arm still hung lifeless, a constant reminder of my failure. Although Ruth and Levi and Sarah understood my need to be with Sally as a protector, her father was more apprehensive. I always knocked first when he was home.

I removed my hat and ducked in, joining what already felt like a family party. Not a true reunion since the eldest and youngest two of the Uley family were not there, Sally's excitement at having her father there made it a happy event.

"Oh," she said with temporary sadness, "you just missed Uncle George."

"Don't worry, Flower, I saw him on my way in. He is doing a favor for Quil. I am afraid he is going to miss your dinner tonight." I said. The house was full of wonderful smells: baked desserts and roasted vegetables.

"Oh, that's OK. He would probably just eat it all anyway," came her funny reply. I smiled and told her she was right.

"Ephraim, how are things going for you?" Matthew asked with a firm handshake. He had bathed, but flakes of sawdust still lined his forehead, emphasizing the line where a hat had shielded his forehead, leaving behind tan skin instead of russet.

"It's going well," I responded. "I have been hunting a lot and even caught a few seals last week. Chief Payne pays me to run errands into Forks and Port Angeles and as long as I can keep my Model T together with wire and gum, everything goes just fine."

"And you help Sally gather berries," he said, insinuating and fishing for something at the same time. Perhaps thinking I was lazy or unmanly. I tried not to dwell on it.

"Well, she asked for help to make this dinner extra special and I think she did a great job. It smells great, Sally and Ruth."

"Well, let's get eating before it gets cold," Ruth said, pointing us all towards the kitchen table. Six people scooted in chairs and elbows bumped at the corners. The table was set with Sally's favorite red and white table cloth, with food piled high in the middle: mashed potatoes, a fresh salad, roast elk and of course the infamous berry dishes.

The plates were from two different sets, but Sally had set them every other one on the table, creating a pattern of white and cream. Soon the plates were filled with green and brown and several shades of red. I felt starving, but ate slowly, deliberately determined to avoid Matthew Hudson's displeasure.

We enquired about the most recent case Levi was reviewing and asked about the garden Sarah and Ruth had planted. I told them about the financial problems the radio told me about, but we did not feel it. We raised and caught food before banks had problems and still did. When there is no money in the bank, there is no money to lose.

Halfway through dinner I heard a distant pensive howl. I looked up with a start, but no one else had heard it. I knew George had found a cold one. I looked around nervously, searching for a good reason to excuse myself with my plate still half-full and the conversation rolling along with little effort. Sally caught my eye. She reflected my worry back to me. I wondered if she would understand.

"Did George say when he would come home?" I quickly asked Levi.

"No, but usually not til morning for an errand like this," Levi answered, humanly deaf and confused.

"I think he should be back by now. I will go check on him," I said scraping the chair backwards and turning toward the door in one swift movement. "You should have dessert without me. This may take a while." I let myself out and ran to the edge of the woods, unbuttoning my shirt and stripping down to my underthings, which I tucked into the strap around my ankle. I phased quickly and was bombarded with the image of a cold one too close.

_Ephraim, hurry! By the south fork of the Snake stream. He is fast_. George growled and leaped away from the teeth of a vampire with brown hair and deadly black eyes. I raced forward, over the bushes and around cedar trees. I increased my speed, zipping past green and brown and flowering blurs. I could smell the cold one before I saw it: lemonade mixed with acid. George crouched and launched himself at the cold one, missing his arm when the vampire moved to the side faster than either of us could see. He appeared to be playing with George, laughing at his attempts.

I knew my noise would give away my position soon enough, so I veered as close to the path of the smell as I could. _I am going to come through the trees and jump right on him. See if you can get his back to me_, I told George. He growled and paced, moving close enough to the vampire to get him nervous, and moving in my directions. I burst through the foliage and launched at him. He sidestepped both of us and I landed on George, a tumble of limbs and paws. An ear-piercing laugh broke the silence of the evening.

_You take the left, I will take the right_, I ordered in my mind as we unscrambled our legs and prepared for the next attack. Before we were even on all 4 paws, George and I launched at the cold one from both sides and he could not avoid us. So He fought. He turned to George and bit hard on his shoulder, screaming as George ripped off his arm. He screamed again as I bit off one leg and then an arm. George lay limp on the ground, a pile of fur and blood with a white arm in his mouth. In a flash of red hate, I leaped on the cold one's face, leaving four long scratches and a bite mark and pushing him onto the ground. I yanked off his other leg and threw it on the pile I had begun.

Yelling and swearing were common from a cold one and I blocked these out. I changed to my human form and pulled on my undershorts. I rushed over to George but his breathing was shallow and weak, a large chunk of skin and fur missing from his shoulder.

"George, you need to phase back before you get any weaker. I can't bring you to any help like this. Please," I begged. His eyes closed and he looked in great pain. Then his body shifted and the dark black fur receded. I reached down his leg and retrieved his pants, slipping them up over his calves and thighs to his waist. The wound was foaming, the poison deep in his bloodstream. I saw a movement from the side of my eye, the vampire rolling toward his pile of limbs. I quickly jumped up and leaned over George's fading form to retrieve his lighter from his pocket. I clicked it open and threw some needles on the parts, then lit them on fire, throwing the trunk in after.

"What are you guys?" I heard the vampire yell and then he fell silent. George's breathing was labored. I leaned over my comrade. My nephew, uncle, friend. I tried to do what I had done for his father. My mouth could not even cover the wound. A sickly white and red streak marred his tan chest, the poison taking a direct path to the heart.

I heard the heavy footfalls of Quil, running toward us. I put my mouth to the shoulder again and sucked, then spit. The brown color returned around the wound, but the red and white streaks got larger and closer to his heart. Darker and closer to the surface. I had failed. I knew I had failed. I felt tears form in my eyes and escape down my cheeks. I cried a tear for Ptle'la and one for Josiah. I cried a tear for Maggie and one for Alice. I cried my last tear for George and then lowered my head in defeat.

Quil appeared, in fur and out of breath. He saw the smoke and ashes. He turned toward us and phased almost instantly. Quil could see what had happened. "There is one bottle of the shaman's medicine at home. We should try it. Let's take him home. Even if he dies on the way, his father and mother would want us to try," Quil said.

I scooped up the boy Levi had entrusted to me and started to run toward the village. His breathing was getting more labored and I knew the time he had left was running out. Without another person to carry, Quil ran ahead.

He met us almost in the village. With my eyes blurred with tears, Quil opened up the medicine and poured it in George's mouth. George gurgled, then swallowed weakly. Quil put the jasper stone on the injured shoulder and I wiped my eyes and ripped a bandage from the tshirt dangling from my ankle. I had failed. All I could think about was my failure to protect another of my brothers. Another Uley. The red streak moved fast and mean towards his heart. Quil left to bring Levi and Sarah to us, hoping it was not too late for good-byes.

**May 20, 1933**

**Crossed the path of some cold ones: first ones since George died. Cars make them harder to catch and smell.**

The thorny bushes caught on my fur, leaving me with souvenirs of each run. They flew off when I ran and when I rushed through a deep stream. There were few trails in the Olympic Peninsula Forests, making it easy to avoid detection as I patrolled the outer reaches of what used to be our tribe's territory. Although there is a new highway in parts, other parts of the road nearby are still dirt. This was changing, though. Camp Lewis was training Junior CCC boys to make trails and roads and to bring electricity to the outer edges of the forest. I knew this would be one of my last runs without people to dodge. I mourned my loss of solitude and then smelled something unpleasant.

The scent was fresh and full of vampires, at least three. There was the light smell of a female, hyacinth and sweet bread, and two males, their scents like honey and leather and dark. I followed them through the Olympic National Forest, but lost them as they faded across a highway. I sniffed in frustration and kept my nose to the ground, searching both sides of the road, stopping and hiding whenever I heard a car. They were gone, but they had not approached any human settlements during their stop.

I decided to trace the path backwards and see what they had been here for. I ran across the trails of elk and deer and even a bear, and then I smelled animal blood: an animal had been killed. I followed the scent deeper into the woods and found three dead deer, each buried with a thin layer of dirt. But they smelled hollow, each lacking the usual pooling of blood around the wounds and bodies. I pawed at the ground to reveal the head of a doe, eyes closed in death. The neck was broken and wounded by bite marks. I had never seen anything like this.

I turned and kicked dirt backwards, reburying the deer. I turned and finished my patrol, leaping across the stream and meandering past alders and fir trees, covered with drooping moss. I reached the bushes behind my house, grey and weathered wood on every side. It was several hours until sunset and I had a lot to do.

Constant patrols were never really possible, and now with only two wolf protectors, Quil and I found ourselves in a rhythm. We actually avoided sharing mindspace when we could, seeing through his eyes brought me back to the night when I lost George. Quil would hear and feel my pain everytime he phased, and it drove us both crazy. So instead he patrolled in the morning and I would run afternoons, he ran once in the evening, and I would run at night.

So I ended my patrol alone and with thoughts of a great evening ahead, returned home. It was Sally's birthday and she was turning 16. As soon as her friends from school went home from the cookie party she had last year for her birthday, she had started planning this one. She wanted to see a talkie.

I told her that Hollywood hadn't even started to decide what movies would open at her next birthday, and how could we plan to see a talkie without knowing what would be showing? But she got a puffy pouty look on her face and she knew I couldn't refuse her. I teased her that maybe it would be a cartoon and we could bring our nieces and nephews too. Sally would cross her arms and dig in her feet.

"No. Next year I am going to see a talkie just with you, like a grown up would," Sally insisted. "The babies would only spoil it, they always start talking during the news reel and they don't stop until the end."

So a talkie it was. I picked her up in my clunking Model T and wondered for the tenth time if this would be its last trip. Forks had a great theater with rows of seats and a large screen behind the stage. I let her pick the movie, although we only had two choices. I don't remember the plot of the film, but I remember her rapt attention and the way the silver glow hit her light brown eyes.

She was the one thing that kept me grounded. The thing that made the pain in my past worth living through.


	9. Chapter 9

**August 10, 1936**

**I did not kill a cold one today. I wish that I had. Sally knows the truth about me but not about us.**

The sun sparkled on the river, throwing light in every direction. I squinted when I looked past it, to where Sally had stopped. She looked the part of the perfect hiker: thick leather boots laced part way up her calves with thick wool socks poking out. I could not convince her that many women hiked in their skirts, instead she had insisted on wearing short pants which covered her knees and tucked in under her socks. She wore her father's blue logging shirt. She had braided her hair in two perfect braids, hanging down out of a floppy brown hat. It was shorter than her mother's hair, the braids barely extended past her chin. Sally sat down on a rock near the edge of the stream and unlaced her boots.

It was a warm day, but we had dressed for cloudy hiking at higher altitudes, and she looked hot and winded. She unlaced the other boot and tugged it off. She slowly rolled down her wool sock, revealing calf and then ankle before she rolled it off her toes. She caught me staring and threw her damp sock at my face. I caught it easily and laughed. She stuck her tongue out and started on the other sock. I unrolled first one sock, then the other and laid them out on the rock beside her.

"I really think the water is going to be too cold to walk in," I warned her.

"I don't care. I am much too hot to keep walking until I can cool off." She eased her toes into the water. "Aaaahh."

She stood up and started walking along the shallow edges of the stream, droplets splashing up onto her legs as she went. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, waiting for her to feel like she could go on. The canvas bag on my shoulders was another of her new purchases. Sally had filled it with a water canteen, smoked salmon and a few new apples.

The hike was her idea. She said if the CCC boys were out making trails, someone ought to be out using them. She knew I took hikes in the woods all the time for "hunting and stuff" as she put it, and begged me to take her with me until I agreed. It had been rainy and cold all that week, but the sun tricked us and came out the day we decided to go hiking.

I wiped the sticky salty sweat off my forehead and created a breeze on my chest by shaking my shirt back and forth. The thin white buttondown seemed a good choice at the time. Now I wished I could take it off.

"All right, are you ready yet?" I asked, pretending to be impatient. I knew I would wait forever if that was what she wanted, but I wouldn't let her know that. Imprinting on a child had been an exercise in patience, and changing feelings. Even now I don't feel particularly romantic towards Sally. Levi and Quil said it is because she doesn't feel that way towards me yet. Yet. They always said "yet," but I had started to believe I was meant to be her big brother, not her husband. I protected her from bullies, taught her how to tie her shoes, dig clams, and shoot elk. She preferred me over her other friends and that was enough for me.

"Nope," she said. The sun beat down on my head, even through my hat. I stepped toward the stream and took off my hat, scooping up some chilly water in one quick sweep. Placing the hat back on my head, I felt the cool water race down my back and drench my shirt. I smiled. I could wait a little longer for her.

Finally, boots back on and thirsts quenched from the canteen, we headed back to the trail. The temperature dropped by ten degrees as soon as we reached the thick shade, making the hike refreshing. I followed Sally up the hill, the trail smelling of fresh cedar and week-old sweat. It was lined with dirt and shavings, discouraging the short vegetation from growing.

After an hour or so, Sally found a fallen trunk, pulled to the side of the trail and notched in the middle, leaving arm rests on either side of the log bench. She sat down and I pulled off the canvas pack and sat next to her. I unbuckled the pack and pulled out the canteen, offering it to her first.

She took it hesitantly, but did not open it. She turned to me, confusion and hesitation on her face. "Ephraim, why do you do that?" she asked.

"Do what?" I responded, honestly confused by her question.

"Why do you always give me whatever I want, half the time before I even have time to ask you?" She unscrewed the canteen and took a long drink, not taking her penetrating eyes off of me.

I thought this question might come up, but I hadn't decided on how to tell her that she was the center of my world. "I have just known you for so long, I know what you want."

She screwed her face in confusion and continued, "What do _you_ want?" I was shocked. I hesitated too long, and Sally took the conversation again. "I mean if you could have or do anything in the world, what would it be?"

"Well, I just want whatever you want?" I said, being more honest with her than I had ever been.

She snorted in frustration. "I want to travel and see the world and visit San Francisco and Seattle and a million other places I have only read about. And I don't want to do it with a shadow who doesn't know what he wants out of life. I know what I want and I want someone who had chosen something and done something. You just follow me around."

"Well," I tried to interrupt, but she wouldn't let me.

"You never decide anything. I remember when I was five you let me decide where to go and when I turned 16, you took me to that talkie…"

"42nd Street," I supplied.

"Right. 42nd Street, even though you hate musicals and thought I was too young for the whole thing. Why don't you tell me what we are going to do sometimes? What is it _you_ want?"

I was relieved she finally gave me a chance to say something. The spiel I had practiced in my head included more details than she had asked for though, so I probed a little. "I wondered when you would ask some of these questions, but you have missed some I thought you would notice first. How old do you think I am?"

"Dad said you were 20 when you returned from the war, so you must be 40?"

"Actually, I am older than that. I don't age at all. Can I show you why?" I stood up and backed up down the trail, away from the log bench, allowing enough room in between us for her to be comfortable. I had thought about this a lot, and I decided that showing her what I was would be the best way to explain myself and why I wanted only the best for her. I focused and pulled the fur out, warmly changing forms until I was a large wolf. I thought she would remember the legends her grandfather Levi had told at campfires. I thought she would be amazed. And awed. Grateful.

She screamed. Her fear pierced my ears and my heart. She screamed again and threw the canteen at me. Sally leaped up and ran away, up the trail away from me. I lumbered after her, trying to calm her, to reassure her. But I forgot I was in wolf form. My grunts and growls frightened her. She looked over her shoulder and ran faster and harder.

I was devastated. The first truly honest thing I had ever shared with her and she was rejecting me. Leaving me. My heart began to splinter, peeling away in neat slabs like a cedar tree being planked. My Sally had rejected me. Turned away from the essence of me. Rejecting and fleeing.

My wolf senses took over and I realized I could smell several cold ones less than a mile away. Too sweet and too close. The instinct to protect overrode my impulse to wallow or my desire to comfort and I ran faster, chasing Sally, but trying to get past her to protect her from the vampires too close to her.

Sally was a strong girl and naturally athletic. She had spent many hours on the beach and in the woods closer to home with me. She ran with the girls' track team at school. But of course, there was no contest. I leaped over her rushing form and flipped in the air, landing 5 feet away, facing her. I concentrated, forcing the fur to recede and slipped my shorts onto my naked form.

"Sally, it's me. It's OK," I reassured her. "But we need to go back home, now. These woods are not safe." Even in human form, I could still smell the nearby cold ones, closer now that Sally had run deeper into the woods along the trail. Her face was red with fear and tears.

"No! I am not going anywhere with you. Get out of my way!" Sally was pushing against my arm, trying to move past me.

"Please, I won't force you to go anywhere with me, but at least head back toward the pickup. Here, take my pickup. Just go home, please." I patted the sides of my shorts and realized I had left the key back in my pants near the log bench. I looked up at her sheepishly. "They are in my pocket, back near the bench."

"No! I am not going anywhere near your pocket or your pickup." Quicker than I though possible, Sally slipped past me and continued running up the trail, disappearing as the trail headed downward. I began to chase her, this time on foot, hoping to not scare her anymore. I knew I would hurt her if I grabbed her arm with the two of us running this fast, so I just chased her, my nose starting to burn with the scent of the cold ones we were approaching. There were at least four of them, two distinctly female, with painfully sweet floral scents and fruity bread and two males, perhaps three, their scents a rich honey, a deep pine and fruit, and leather mixed with vanilla.

We ran on the newly made trail, up to where the left side of the trail dropped off, with the right side banked up against a wall of rock, held up with plants and netting. Our speed was swift, but she was starting to slow, her breathing speeding up and her heart beating faster than it had during her last race. To the left the moss covered trees clung to a hill, sloping down to a creekbed at the bottom, easily 100 feet below.

"Sally, please," I yelled between breaths. She looked over her shoulder, judging the distance between us. Her toe caught on a root, carelessly meandering across the trail and she fell forward. I reached out to steady her and she pushed back against my arms with such force she flew backwards down the ravine edge. Her brown hat flew off her head and her braids bounced. Then her back hit the ground and she yelled in pain. Caught off guard, she continued to roll down the hill.

It had been a wet summer, with several rough and cold storms. The wind had broken trees into parts, leaving them scattered in its wake. Sally's body slammed against one of these, her leg skewered on a sharp branch. Sally screamed, a sound which had not gotten easier to hear. I launched myself down to her, reaching her only seconds after she had been stopped by the tree. Blood started to pool into the pine needles and moss on the ground by her leg.

I looked into her eyes and her pain was replaced by something worse. Fear and hate. Maybe blame. "Get away from me!" she yelled, pushing me with her left arm. She blinked and tears flowed down her cheeks. I moved down toward her boots, out of hitting range and examined her leg. It had hit dead on, the stick forming a right angle with her leg. The wool socks were red, blood seeping into the top of her leather laced-up boots.

I started running through scenarios in my mind. I could use my pocket knife to cut the stick and carry her back to my Dodge KC pickup, waiting several miles back down the trail. But if she struggled or moved, things could get a whole lot worse. I wished for a medical degree, a way to help her, to know what was going on under her skin.

The cold one stench became stronger, burning my nose and raising the hair on the back of my neck. I turned toward the smell, determined to protect Sally from what was approaching. I heard footsteps racing toward us. Only two vampires. The others were far away, their scents getting fainter, two to the east and one to the north, where the road curved around the forest.

Then I could see them. White skin through the trees. Two men, one blonde and one with a reddish color of hair that reminded me of cut redwood, used by the southern river tribes, the Yurok and Tolowa. They were running with the swiftness only cold ones could accomplish. Although I wanted to think through the options and decide the best thing to do: to meet them as a man, defending Sally to the last drop of blood I had, or to choose my wolf form and tear both of their heads off, I could not. I saw the redwood-headed one slow slightly and turn his head to the blonde. But before I could weigh the options properly, I was a wolf. The cold ones slowed their approach, but did not stop until they were 20 feet away from me. I growled, showing my teeth. I could smell Sally's blood behind me, luring the cold ones in.

I heard a whisper, unclear even with my wolf ears. The blonde stepped forward one step and spoke, "We are not here to hurt you."

_Sure, kill us is more like it, _I thought.

"We will not kill you, either," the other one said flatly. "My father wants to help your friend. He is a doctor."

I growled at the lie. _A vampire doctor indeed. Lies_. I prefer it when the cold ones said nothing.

"I am not lying. My father has studied medicine for over 150 years. We are not like the others you have known before." He sounded depressed. He hissed at that as though he had heard my thought.

Sally screamed out in pain, "Ephraim, help me. It hurts!"

I turned back to her. "Please," the blonde said in his melodic voice. "Let me look at her leg." I heard another set of crashing footsteps, lighter this time, feminine.

"It's my mother. She has my father's bag. With morphine and bandages. He can save her life. And her leg, but we have to hurry." With a sudden last crash, a soft female entered next to the other two cold ones. She handed her husband a dark brown leather bag and slowly backed away, holding her breath.

"I am going to come look at her leg now. You can watch and see, we mean you no harm." The blonde doctor slowly stepped forward. Sally's cries rung in my ears, accelerating my desperation. I would do anything to stop her pain. But would I trust a cold one? Rely on a killer?

"My father has never drunk human blood. We only drink from animals. Your friend will be quite safe," the redwood haired vampire said.

I glared at him suspiciously. How did he keep doing that?

"I can read your mind. I can read everyone's mind," came his sullen reply. I sniffed at him, trying to ignore him and his damn answers to my thoughts.

The doctor stood in front of me and indicated Sally's leg. "May I?"

_If you hurt Sally, you are dead. And I will track down every relative you have and kill them too, rip you limb from limb_. I imagined the limbs flung in piles, the fires and ash of cold ones I had destroyed. The son, still standing 20 feet away flinched at my thoughts, but stood his ground.

I inched away from the blonde doctor, his white shirt glistening a little in the sun streaming through the branches. His hands caught the sun as well, sending rays of light up like diamonds on his skin. He opened his bag and pulled out several scalpels and needles, tied together in a leather case, rolled bandages and a small metal hinged box, only slightly larger than a deck of cards. He opened up the silver box and took out a metal rod with a plunger. He attached a metal needle and filled the cylinder with liquid from another tube.

"It's morphine," he explained, noting my curiosity. He shifted to face the impaled leg. He steadied with his left hand and Sally screamed.

"Ephraim, Ephraim! Hold. Hand. Ephraim!," she said between screams. I hesitated. I could not hold her in my wolf form. I could not properly protect her in my human form.

"We will not hurt you," the cold one said from 20 feet away. I growled at him, but believed him. If he had wanted to hurt either of us, he would have done it before his father filled a syringe with morphine. I retreated toward Sally's head and changed back to human form, removing my shorts from my ankle and putting them on in one motion. I sat near her head, cradling the top half of her body on my lap.

"I am here, Sally," I said, taking her hand in mine. She squeezed it. Hard. The doctor checked that she was ready and injected the morphine into several places on her leg. A surprised whimper as the needle pierced her skin and she settled into sniffles and moans. Faster than I could watch, the blonde doctor broke the branch on the far side of Sally's leg and examined it closer. He took out a small glass bottle and poured iodine on the wound.

"Edward, I am going to need your help."

"I don't know if I can Carlisle. The blood." He was hesitant. I remembered what 'Edward' had said just a few minutes ago. The Doctor had never drunk human blood. He did not include himself in that description. He was tempted by my Sally's blood. Even though I was a human, I growled my disapproval. I did not want him anywhere near us.

"Edward, she is losing blood too quickly. You need to slowly pull out the branch while I sew up the capillaries and muscle in her leg. I need an assistant." The doctor was firm and encouraging. Edward hesitated. I imagined pulling him to pieces when he messed up. But when he caught my thoughts, he straightened up, determined to prove me wrong. He strode over to his father's side.

"What do I do?" He asked before holding his breath. The silence was pregnant for several seconds before Edward nodded and then began to follow some unspoken directions. 'Dr. Carlisle' as I decided to call him in my mind, moved faster than my eyes could see, closing up the wound as fast as Edward pulled out the wooden branch. The wound was still oozing blood when he applied the last stitches. He applied the gauze in long white strips, over and over until he tied it off.

"Now I suggest you get this young lady home. She should stay off her leg for at least 6 weeks while it heals. Do you need help carrying her?" Dr. Carlisle was too nice, even for a pale face, let alone for a cold one.

"No, I can manage," I said, straining to be polite in return. I shifted slightly and pulled Sally up in my arms, bridal style. I stood up, sweaty from the heat of the hike and the stress of the situation. I turned to head back up the ravine to the trail.

"You are welcome," Edward whispered, looking only at Sally. She looked up at me expectantly, but I could not do it. The cold one would have to satisfy himself with Sally's unspoken gratitude. He would not get it from me. I tightened my grip on Sally and rushed up the steep incline. I did not like turning my back on cold ones, but having to face them was worse.

Sally leaned into my chest as I ran down the trail. Perhaps she understood now.

**August 17, 1936**

**It has been a week. Sally refuses to see me. **

_She just needs time. She will get used to who you are and what you do for the tribe, she just needs time to process it. _It felt like Quil meant what he said, but I couldn't help think it was only because he thought that was what I needed to hear. He had joined the mindspace earlier than usual, so I was still on patrol. _Well, yeah, he thought, It was the only way I could get you to listen to me. _

I had brought Sally home and she had refused to see me ever since. I knocked on the Hudson's door everyday. At first Ruth just said her daughter didn't feel well and she needed her rest. But I could see her through the window. Her father and grandfather daily moved her from her bed to the maroon davenport with the flowered seats. She never saw me as I walked back home, and I realized it was because she was staring at the fireplace, avoiding anyplace I might be.

By the fourth day, Ruth assured me that she could let me know when Sally wanted to see me again. It hurt more than I thought it would. Each time I was turned away at her door, a bit of my soul floated out through my ribs. My heart and lungs began to ache from not being in her presence.

Food held no attraction for me, even the delicious cakes and cookies Bixie had brought over to me still sat on her white plate on my kitchen counter. Sleep offered no relief. My dreams started out with hunting cold ones, especially the sullen Edward with his superiority and eye-rolling. But the dreams shifted to Sally alone in the woods, hurt or dead. Then I was alone. No Sally, no friends, no trees to keep me company.

_Whoa. That is dark, Ephraim._ I had forgotten my thoughts were not my own. I thought to try to make a joke of it to pretend it wasn't that bad, but Quil knew the truth. Bixie's mother had died several years ago and Quil stayed behind to keep up his fishing business and to watch the older kids. By the time Bixie came home two weeks later, Quil was nearly comatose in his bed, unwilling to even get up. I could see the memories this bought back to him, first the pain of separation, felt doubly hard when combined with my own, then the joy of feeling her hand touch his when she returned. His soul revived instantly and he stood and swept her up in his arms.

I phased to human form quickly, trying to avoid the thoughts this reunion image brought to Quil's mind. I found myself kneeling beside a large oak tree. She had stopped to rest against this tree when she was 14, on a hunting trip with me after school. I bought her a 1931 Winchester and she held onto it lazily, leaning against the mossy cedar. I smelled the moss, hoping for a hint of her left behind, but it had washed away years ago. I leaned my forehead against the tree, motionless.

When I finally felt the need to move on, the cloudy day had turned dark, and the moon refused to offer any light. It was a new moon and the sky was black, stars hidden by clouds, moon hiding from everyone. I walked home, feeling no need to get there any faster than my human legs could take me.

My house stood, a dark mass blocking my view. I entered and stripped off my shirt and canvas pants, leaving a trail leading to my unmade bed. I flopped down and willed myself to stop thinking. I disobeyed.

The morning light peaked through the sheer curtains with lace trim my mother had hung in this window once I moved out. Because I married Maggie. Maggie made life easy and simple. Perhaps not exciting but never painful. Until she died. Leaving me alone.

My eyes stung as I opened them. I was surrounded by smudgy sheets, filthy with the dirt I had not taken off before sleeping. Did I sleep? I must have, as I remember waking to the bright orange of sun through my lids, but I do not remember falling asleep. I rubbed my face, rearranging my eyes and nose before slinking over to the kitchen sink. There were dishes lying haphazardly, but the faucet was tall enough I did not have to move the dirty things to fill my hands with water, washing my face then drinking deeply. I turned off the faucet and moved over to the counter. I took a bite of a dark brown molasses cookie, then returned it to the plate. I shooed a fly off the cake and looked around for something to cover it with. Finding nothing, I went back to my room and pulled on some clothing.

As I headed over to Sally's house, my hair brushed and my shoes on, I smelled the sting of cold ones. Near. In the village. I whipped my head quickly from one end to the other, searching the beach and woods for the source of the smell. Then I realized it was familiar. I had smelled these smells before. A week before.

Dr. Carlisle and Edward were in La Push.

My blood boiled in anger. I tried to casually jog in the direction of their smell, accelerating as I realized they were close to Sally's home. By the time I got there, I was at a full run, conjuring odd looks from the women and old men at the windows of the houses I passed. Children's eyes enlarged and followed me, a blur of fear and hate. I burst through Sally's front door, causing five heads to flip in my direction. The door banged carelessly on the wall behind it. Edward continued to look straight ahead at a wall, unmoved by my arrival. He heard my hateful thoughts coming. Ruth stood over Sally, holding the open doctor bag. Dr. Carlisle looked surprised, his hand redressing the wound on Sally's leg. Sarah was coming back from the kitchen, a basket in her hands. Her mother and grandmother looked confused, but Sally looked mad.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed at me. "My mother told you to stay away."

"I am _protecting_ you. What are _they_ doing here?"

Sarah grasped my forearm with her free arm. "Everything is OK, Ephraim. The Doctor and his son are just here to check on their patient. Sally was lucky to get injured near such a diligent doctor."

"Actually, Sally is lucky the branch missed both bones," the doctor countered with a smile, venom glistening on his teeth. "I am all finished up. Mrs. Uley, do you have that basket?" Sarah released my arm and held the basket out to him, gathering the used bandages. "You are healing up really well, faster than I thought. You could probably put some weight on it in another week. Walking in the house in two. You could probably even go hiking with your friend again in three weeks."

"I am not going anywhere with him." She glared at me, angry that I had scared her, that I was a monster, that I was still trying to protect her.

"Would you like me to come dress the wound again next week?" Dr. Carlisle offered.

"No!" I yelled at the same time Sally said, "Yes." My eyes widened in confusion. Hers narrowed in rebellion.

"Please, Dr. Cullen, please come check on my daughter next week. We would like your approval before we let her put weight on that leg," Ruth clarified, handing him his bag. "Ephraim, why don't you walk the gentlemen out and close the door behind you." Although Ruth liked me, she wasn't about to insist on my presence if Sally did not want me.

Did not want me. My Sally had rejected me to my face. I felt pieces of me escape my chest and float away. The darkness closing in around my heart.

I saw from the corner of my eye that Edward's eyes rolled. I felt the hatred boil up in my soul while he followed his father past me to the open door. I left last, closing the door. Edward and Dr. Carlisle wasted no time heading back toward their 1932 Ford Deuce Roadster, a sleek black car with the leather cover pulled tight over the driver's seat.

"I know what you are. You are not welcome here," I said to their backs, knowing they could hear my every breath and heartbeat.

Edward whipped around, "We know what you are too and it seems you are not welcome." I nearly launched myself at the sullen know-it-all, but stopped when Dr. Carlisle put himself between us.

"Ephraim, we don't want to cause any trouble. I was worried about infection since the woods aren't exactly sterile, and Ruth seems really concerned about her standing again. After next week, we will leave you alone." Dr. Carlisle was calm and collected. I realized it drove me crazy. Here he was, a creature made to kill and destroy and he was talking about infections and what Ruth wanted. None of it made sense.

"Because you keep forgetting he has been a doctor for twice as long as most people live. He would never hurt a patient," Edward said.

"Fine, he can come next week for one hour but if I ever see you or your mother again, I will rip your arms off first and ask questions later." I crossed my arms in front of my chest and stood my ground. Edward started to make a snide comment, but the doctor took his arm and pushed him toward the Deuce.

"I can tell you feel strongly about this. That arrangement should be fine. I will be back next week." Dr. Carlisle stepped up into the car and closed the door. He started the car and headed down the road toward Forks.

I took two steps into the woods and left a pile of shoes and clothes. I changed form and chased the car, staying in the woods where they would not see me.

"Do you want to hunt before we go back to Hoquiam?" I heard Dr. Carlisle say.

"Shh, we are being followed," Edward warned. They drove in silence while I chased beside them, the trees rushing past in dark black streaks, thinking of every mean thing about cold ones I could think of.

"Still, a werewolf's girlfriend is a nice change from lumberjack injuries," Carlisle said. I growled at the very thought of him anywhere near Sally. Finally they reached Forks and I stopped to make sure they turned south and headed out of my county.

**August 24, 1936**

**Sally is doing better. The cold ones will not be returning.**

I stood outside Sally's door. The foggy drizzle of the early morning made my clothes damp and stick in cold layers to my skin. It was before 5 am, I had been waiting since midnight. The cold ones said they would be retuning in a week and I was not going to let Sally face them alone. I shifted my weight to my right leg, in what felt like an eternal wait.

I heard the padding of bare feet across the wooden floor of the living room and the kitchen. Her grandmother turned on the light in the kitchen. It fell in a ray on either side of my body, casting a large shadow onto the flowers and grass Ruth had planted. I caught her eye over my shoulder, but quickly turned back to face away from the house.

After a few minutes, the door opened. Even without turning around, I knew it was Levi. He shuffled now a little, his age showing in every motion.

"Hello, Tah-yat'l," he said once he was standing exactly beside me. His good hand carried his fishing gear, and there was a basket dangling from his shoulder.

"Hello, Beta," I said, choosing his nickname. I remembered the day he had told me all about the structure of a wolf pack, a large textbook open in front of him. His twenty-year old self excited for any tidbit of knowledge about what we were and how things like mindspace worked. I had called him Beta to goad him ever since.

"So…. Waiting for the Cullens?"

"Levi, how can you be so calm? Why aren't you freaking out about letting vampires into your house. Close to your granddaughter? How can you stand it?" I asked, speeding through the questions I had been wanting to ask his whole family for more than a week.

"Well, Sarah is a good judge of character. They only hunt animals, you know. Not humans. And Sally needs a doctor." His calm façade broke slightly. It was harder than he wanted me to know. "You plan to stay out here until they arrive?"

"Until he arrives. Only Dr. Carlisle is coming this time. No Edward, no wife."

"Well, I have fish to catch. I wish you would come with me. It would do you good to get out on the water again. How long has it been anyway?" Levi loved fishing. Especially on a Monday morning when all the campers from the weekend would leave and just the Quileutes were on the water.

"1911. My last seal hunt," I replied. Even though our tribe was allowed to continue hunting the seal, the fact that the pale face government thought the seals were being over- hunted gave me pause. Besides, I did not really have time, between patrols and Sally…

Her name brought an abrupt stop to my thoughts. And a sadness. I felt my shoulders sink in pain.

"Well, Sally has asked that you not come inside when the doctor gets here. You really scared her, Ephraim."

"I know. It was foolish. I thought it would be easier to show than to explain. I love her painfully, Levi. Will she ever forgive me?" I turned my stare from the misty ocean, to stare at Levi, willing him to give me the answer I needed.

"I really can't say, Ephraim. She needs time, that is for sure and you over here knocking everyday is not really helping."

"I can't help it," I said. I buried my face in my hands. Cominq undone like a sweater pulled at until it collapses into a pile of yarn. "You know the crazy thing? She does not even know I love her, that I imprinted, that I will only be complete in this life if I am with her."

"I know. I think I would have brought that part up first." He made a sympathetic smile and returned to his house.

He tipped his hat at me as he left the house an hour later with his fishing gear. Matthew Hudson was on his heels, rushing off to his Chevy to drive up to the lumber yard. I felt more determined than ever to remain at my post. George was gone, so there was no uncle to look after Sally. Only me.

Ruth opened the door next, walking behind her younger three children. "Ephraim, could you walk the children down to Bixie's house? She is expecting them." I was grateful the house was emptying out, but wished there was a way I could convince them all to be somewhere else.

"Of course, Ruth. Not a problem," I assured her. She turned back to the house and I caught a glimpse of Sally on the davenport, an afghan on her lap and her hair loose, falling around her shoulders. She caught my eye the second before her mother closed the door.

"Hello, Julia, Warren, Stephen. How are you guys today?" Three year old Stephen reached up with one pudgy hand and held onto my pinky. He put the thumb of his other hand into his mouth. Warren bent over to pick up a pretty rock and put it in his pocket. He was eight and always finding something interesting.

Twelve-year-old Julia answered for everyone, "We are fine, Mr. Ephraim. I don't need a babysitter, you know. I should be able to stay home with Sally."

"Oh, I know. But Bixie is going to need your help with your brothers and little Quil. Maybe you could take them all down to the beach in a few hours. Plus, she always needs help making cookies." I tried to list all the things she enjoyed the most.

"Yeah, that's true. I am really good at making cookies. All Sally does is sit around and talk about you anyway," she said, catching me off guard. Warren started to trail behind so I stopped for a second.

"Really, what does she say?" I tried to be casual, but the curiosity burned inside me.

"Not very nice stuff, like you are dumb and don't want to go travelling with her and that's what she wants and why did you have to be a woof, or something. I don't know what she means half the time." We walked the remaining blocks to Quil's house in silence.

I knocked on the thin wooden door and yelled, "Special Delivery." Stephen looked up at me with big eyes, and Julia giggled.

Bixie opened the door, a big smile on her face. Her soft form took up most of the doorway, covered in a navy flowered dress. "Well, Ephraim, what a surprise. Thank you for bringing the Hudson kids down. Please, come in." There were bacon honey muffins baking in the kitchen and the smell was divine. I hesitated a moment longer than I wanted to.

"No, I need to get back to the Uleys. He could arrive at anytime."

Quil appeared behind is wife. He kissed the top of her hair, salt and peppered with age, and said, "Don't worry, Bixie, I got him one. I am going to walk him over, but I'll be right back." He tossed me a bacon muffin and its heat burned my hand for an instant.

"Thanks," I said, biting into the muffin. Quil closed the door behind us and I heard the three young boys start to argue over who got the biggest muffin.

"So, how are you doing?" Quil began. His tone irritated me. I felt hen-pecked by the other members of the pack.

"Swell," I replied, my mouth half-full of muffin. "Talking about it makes it hurt more."

Quil responded with silence. Our leather shoes crunched on the gravel for several minutes. "She will come around, you know. You are her best friend. That has got to mean something. Just give her time."

"Time is all that I have," I replied as we reached the Uley/Hudson house and I took my sentinel's place, staring out into the ocean. Quil sighed, patted my shoulder and turned toward home. He looked over his shoulder for an instant, then continued, thinking better of adding to our conversation.

I stood waiting, the calls of the gulls mixing with the sounds of the last barred owls of the night. This was a beautiful day, a foggy dawn with hopes of a sunny sky blowing in the slow wind. I grimaced at the thought of its beauty being ruined with a visit from a cold one.

At noon, Levi came home from fishing, his baskets wet with floppy fish he did not sell. We exchanged half-smiles as he went into the house. The sounds coming from inside the house did not interest me, because none of them included Sally's voice, which had stopped the second I had returned to my post. I shifted my weight to my left leg and waited.

I heard them and smelled them at the same time. Vampires and a Ford Deuce. I growled at the second smell, a cold one I had not met yet. The smooth engine stopped a few houses away from the Uleys, where the road widened. Dr. Carlisle opened the passenger door and reached back in for his bag. He looked at me sheepishly and came over toward me while the driver's door slammed behind him. I glared at him for a moment before I sized up his passenger.

She was beautiful, I suppose if you like the pale blonde look. Her eyes were a light amber color and she wore a long tailored red jacket with a large collar. She straightened out her white gloves and she approached me. She was holding her breath, but still managed to smirk at me.

"I thought I told you to come alone," I sneered under my breath as though she could not hear me.

"Technically you told me not to bring Edward or my wife. This is my daughter Rosalie. She insisted on coming. Insistence is a talent of hers." He smiled apologetically. "Also, my family felt uncomfortable allowing me to come here alone, given the damage you are able to inflict on our kind."

I was confused. I had not remembered telling him anything about that. He registered my confusion and clarified, "Edward told me many of your thoughts from the previous two times we have met." Of course he did.

As 'Rosalie' approached, her nose wrinkled in distaste. "Ugh," she complained, "how can you stand it, Carlisle? He smells awful." I growled again.

"Rosalie, please do not insult our host. I told you that you were welcome to stay in the car." She seemed to seriously consider it, but when she saw that was my preference, she refused, following Dr. Carlisle to the house instead. He knocked twice and waited.

Sally had not moved from the davenport and her face lit up when she saw the doctor. She put her Movie Mirror magazine down as her mother welcomed in the cold ones. I heard Levi exchange a few pleasantries and then he joined me outside.

"Boy, they smell, don't they? I still have my sense of smell, you know. That was bad," Levi said. I nodded and listened through the walls for Sally's voice.

"I feel much better," she assured the doctor. He helped her stand on her right leg, and then encouraged her to try the other leg. She squeaked out in pain and Levi grabbed my arm, not allowing me to rush to her side.

"You can't help," he reminded me. I kicked a rock and sent it across the gravel.

"Here," came Dr. Carlisle's voice from inside the house, "Do these exercises with your leg for another week and then you should be able to walk indoors normally. My schedule will not allow me to visit you here again, but you are healing just fine. You have been an excellent patient." She shivered slightly as I heard skin hit rock and I realized he was shaking her hand. Only Levi's hand protected the good doctor from destruction that time.

The hour wasn't up, but he was finished, so Levi opened the door for them and thanked the doctor for coming. Sally was standing up beside the maroon davenport, waving to the cold ones. She saw me staring and pretended to be very concerned with sitting back down. Levi shook his head at me and closed the door.

"Well, Ephraim, thank you for letting us come back." Dr. Carlisle offered his hand, but I thrust my hands deeper into my pockets.

"Thank you for helping her," I returned. "I owe you her life."

"Perhaps you could pay us back by not killing us if you ever meet us again in the woods," Rosalie chimed in. My lips formed a straight line. I was not sure I could promise her that. The law of the pack was maim first, ask questions later.

Dr. Carlisle could see my hesitation and rescued me from myself. "You're welcome."

I took to the woods and followed their car back to Forks, until they turned south.


	10. Chapter 10

**September 5, 1936**

**Sally and I went down to Hoquiam. It did not go well. She knows what they are now.**

I had been a wolf for a week. It was the only way I could stop myself from trying to visit Sally. They thought she needed time away from me, so I stayed away. I did not pay attention to borders, so it is possible I was in Canada or Oregon or even Idaho for awhile. I heard a lot of hikers and avoided a lot of roads. I did not meet any cold ones.

It hurt less to breathe when I was a wolf. When hunting rabbits and deer was all I thought about. As I lay down underneath a tall, skinny sub-alpine fir tree, the moon was so large and so full it lit everything around me, as though it was still day. There were no clouds and the wind merely played in the branches, a happy wind. The struggle to survive, the instinct to run faded away and all I could see was Sally's face.

I stayed awake all night, memorizing each hair and each part of her face. Her eyes looked at me, then away, laughing, then contemplative. Sadness, then peace. I watched her emotions for hours and hours. As the sun began to come up, I blinked and the vision that had stayed with me all night disappeared. The grass was green under the tree, but brown at its roots, struggling to find enough light and enough water to survive. I thought about the face I had seen and wondered what it meant. I stretched my paws out in front of me and felt the shimmer of Quil joining me.

_Good Morning, Ephraim. How is the wolfing life?_

I smiled at Quil's question, but was quickly pulled back into my serious mood._ It's going fine, although I am not sure I slept at all last night. I had the weirdest thing happen. _I thought of Sally's face for a second, but then I started staring at the fir branches, securing my thoughts of Sally to myself.

Quil cleared his throat and interrupted my counting of the needles_, "Sally actually wanted me to ask you something. She has a favor to ask of you but she doesn't think you will like it. She wouldn't even tell me what it was. She seemed embarrassed about whatever it was. _Quil paused for a moment_. How far away are you? _

_I am not really sure. I stopped keeping track three days ago. Somewhere east of Seattle. It's like a desert almost. _

_Well, Sally wanted to make you dinner. Do you think you could get home for that? _I started moving after his first three words. Sally. Wanted. What else could there be?

_Sure, sure. I can do it, _I thought, leaping over a short and wide bilberry bush. My paws hit the ground hard, again and again, creating a rhythm in my head and heart. I ran west, the sun at my tail, casting great monstrous shadows in front of me. My legs kept running but my heart suddenly froze. I am a monster. Sally had a favor to ask of me, but that didn't mean she liked me or could trust me.

_But she doesn't hate you. _

_How do you know?_ I moaned.

_Levi had a talk with her_. He remembered the night before, Sally at his door, the darkness behind her and quiet in Quil's house told me it was late at night. Quil remembered her words, 'Could you ask Ephraim to come home? I have a favor to ask of him.' Quil felt worried at her words, but she continued, 'I don't hate him.'

That was enough for me. I ran faster, dodging the fir trees as I ran up hills and leaped over thin meandering streams. I heard Quil chuckle, _I will check on your progress after you have worn yourself out, _he thought and I felt the mindspace empty out_. _My hunting instinct was gone, leaving only the draw of my own personal home. Sally.

I could not run a straight line, and I was not sure I wanted to. I couldn't tell if I was north or south of La Push and I was not sure when something would become familiar, but I knew that if I kept running west, soon I would reach the coast. The coast I knew like the back of my paw. But this terrain was brown. Almost flat. Broken up by large farms and the occasional fir tree. It was hard to hide in corn fields, so I relied on my nose, directing me away from any curious onlookers. But it was adding miles to my trip.

My mind began to hear words in the rhythm of my pawfalls. Sally wants. Sally wants. The words were pressed into my brain. Sally wants. Sally wants.

I leaped through a large river, getting soaked as I waded and paddled across to the other side. Then the mountains began. At least there were no people, but the last of the mountain snow under my feet slowed me down quite a bit. As I started to run down the other side, the rain started to pitter down. Slowly at first, then an outburst of rain splattered down around me, chilling me even through my fur. I ran faster, hoping to dry off with the wind. The white batch on my chest dried first, puffing out.

By noon, the sun was high in the sky, beating down on my wet fur, warming my back and head as I ran through the forest and up and down mountains. I searched the horizon for landmarks, for anything I could recognize. Finally, to my right, I saw it. Mount Tahoma. I knew the way home from there. I turned south, but only slightly, running southwest so I would miss the mountain. I didn't need any more snow. The paths became more familiar, and I redoubled my efforts again. Up ahead I could see a creek sparkling in the sunlight, enticing me and blinding me. I realized suddenly I was thirsty. I stopped at the edge of the creek and bent over to drink. My legs collapsed beneath me, pain shooting through them. I let out an unexpected howl, and tensed in pain. After a minute, I relaxed and sniffed the water tentatively, then drank deeply.

I knew I had to run again, had to stand and run and return to Sally, but my legs refused. I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I could feel the muscles in my legs repairing themselves, knitting the tears and refueling the cells. I was tired and I felt the sleep take over. I opened my eyes with a start and leaped up. _No!_ I thought to myself. _I will not fall asleep. Not with Sally waiting for me_.

I woke up my mind with a violent shake of my head, my fur shaking with the force. I easily jumped over the creek and continued on toward La Push.

As Mount Tahoma's foothills began to gain height, I turned straight west, crossing below the tents and shacks full of unshowered men that dotted the southern side of Olympia. I stuck to the brush and remaining stands of pine and hemlock.

At last, I turned north. The sun was hidden behind thick gray layers of clouds, but I was encouraged by the brightness. It was still before dinner. I might actually make it. I relished in the feel of the familiar cedars, I had entered the National Forest. My Forest, the territory we used to hunt, the place I still center most of my patrols on. The only things that felt closer to me than this forest were La Push and Sally. The rhythm filled my ears, paw over paw, again and again. I could hear the wind, familiar through the trees. I could smell the cedar and bear grass replacing the foreign smells of cities and deserts and mountain snow.

I continued along the outside edge of the forest and finally cut across the quiet Highway. With my speed, I quickly smelled the ocean. The salty, fishy smells of tides and clams and whales.

As I ran up the coast, the steep cliffs lining the edges where forest met ocean, I felt Quil enter the mindspace. _Ephraim, have you collapsed from exhaustion yet?_

_Almost….there,_ I panted. Even my thoughts were out of breath. I raised my head, staring at my surroundings as they whizzed by so Quil would know how close I was.

_Wow. OK. You might even have time to bathe before dinner. I will get Bixie to draw the water in your claw tub. You should be home in half an hour, right?_ Quil was starting to list details of how he could help me, but I shook my head.

_I will be fine Quil. I'll just fill the bath myself when I get there. I'm sure Bixie is busy_.

Quil scoffed, but agreed. _All right, be a man. Get your own bath_. He changed back to human form and I was left alone again. I reached the outskirts of town, where some new homes had been ordered from Sears last year. The tribe had helped the family pull it down off the truck piece by piece and then put it together like a giant puzzle. I turned and ducked behind their house, deeper into the woods. The houses were still all bunched up on the beach, with repairs occurring after each storm. I passed the backs of the homes of council members and school children. Fishermen and widows.

Finally I could see my house, the one-story lumber yard creation. I started a tradition once I met Sally and each year on her birthday I picked a project to finish on my house. That was how I got a sink, a tub and a wood shed. Last year, I decided to paint. Sally chose a bright white paint with a cheery green trim around the windows.

The sun cast an orange glow through the clouds, turning my house a beautiful amber color. It stood with its mossy wood shingles on the roof and green door beckoning. But I stayed out of sight, in the back. I phased and slunk to the ground.

Besides the exhaustion, I was not sure my legs knew how to work anymore. I crawled to the house and went in the back door, still grey with age. The tub was in the laundry shed, connected to the back just a few years ago, so I leaned up over the edge and turned on the faucet. The curtains in the front room were open, so I closed the laundry room door and pulled myself into the tub. At first the water was freezing, but it did not hurt. Slowly it got warmer, and browner, as the soap and water cleaned parts of me I had forgotten I had, like elbows and toes.

I leaned back, my legs sticking out of the water at the knees, and sighed. My eyes closed and I felt the exhaustion take over, slowly slipping into a warm soft peace.

I sat up with a start and realized I had fallen asleep. The sky from the back window was black, but it faces east. I jumped out of the tub and, grabbing a towel, rushed to the front room. The sun was still setting, the orange and red clouds touching the ocean horizon. I hurried to my room and dressed, wondering what Sally had made for dinner. My pants were loose and I tightened the suspenders around my shoulders to keep them up.

My boots were barely on when I closed the door behind me, hopping a few steps to settle them onto my feet. The walk to the Uley's house had never felt so long. I knocked on the door, three short raps. Levi opened it for me and welcomed me in. The aroma of roasted elk with parsnips, potatoes and carrots filled the kitchen. Sally and Ruth were doing the dance of final preparation, their dresses sliding past each other.

Matthew stood from the maroon chair and shook my hand. "How are you Ephraim? How was your trip?"

"Long and boring," I replied, trying to remember which lie I had told. Sally caught my eye in the other room, her olive green dress cinched in at the waist with a thin belt, matching the white squares scattered across the fabric from the collar to the hem brushing her calves. Her arms were gripping an imaginary circle in front of her, twisting it back and forth, like a steering wheel. "The truck held up, that's the important thing." Sally smiled. I had successfully read her pantomime.

"Dinner is ready," Ruth said. Levi stopped beside his wife and helped her stand on his left side. Together, the elders of the household walked to the table, sitting next to each other. Once we were all settled in and eating, Ruth looked pointedly at her daughter.

Sally cleared her throat, "I am sorry I was rude to you Ephraim. I know you were only trying to keep me safe."

"That's alright, Sally. I am sorry I kept checking on you when you only wanted to be left alone," I replied. Relief filled the whole house and centered on the diagonal line connecting Sally and I. Suddenly, Sally tensed.

"I have a favor to ask of you. You might not like it," she spoke again, playing with her mashed potatoes. Her head was down, her thick black hair shielding her face.

"I personally think it is a good idea. Something has to be done, and you are the only one we would trust," Ruth said, interrupting Sally's thought process. Levi looked a little irritated.

"Mom! I can do this myself," she said, miffed at the interruption. She gathered a big breath and began. "I think we should go down to Hoquiam and thank the Cullens for helping me. I could make cookies and that potato salad you say is so good." I was speechless. I looked at the faces of the people at the table. Sally was embarrassed, Ruth was hopeful. Levi and Sarah were hesitant and Matthew was eating. I could not imagine what to say.

Sally began again, "I just feel like we owe them so much and they wouldn't take any money, so I thought this would be the next best thing. Mom says you can drive me down. We could talk on the way. Please, I really need to do something." She lifted her sweet light brown eyes, linking them with mine.

I knew I was beat. As much as the blood boiled up inside me to think of her close to a cold one again, this was something she needed to do. "Sure, sure. I can drive you down. I think a talk would do us some good."

Levi's eyes got dark. He had been hoping I would say no. He did not like the idea of his granddaughter close to vampires any more than I did.

"Well, that will be a fun trip for you two. When do you plan on going, Sally?" Matthew asked.

"Friday. That way I can cook and bake tomorrow," came her reply.

She baked more than just cookies. When I picked her up Friday morning, she carried out a basket of cookies and a glass bowl of potato salad with a tea towel on top. On her shoulder was the canvas hiking bag we had used before. "There are two cakes in there too, can you get them, please?" I nodded and ducked into the house. Ruth and Sarah had gone shopping, leaving Levi alone in the house with me. He glared at me.

"How can you even consider doing this? It's insane. You might as well put frosting on her, too. She is the only thing they are going to find appetizing out of all this stuff." He threw down the table knife full of pink frosting and pushed the finished cake toward me.

"You know it hurts to tell her no," I explained.

"I know." His reply was calmer, but still irritated. "Just be careful. They say they don't bite humans, but I still don't trust them."

"Me neither," I agreed as Sally called my name from the pickup. We secured the food in the seat between us, and Sally waved to her grandfather, her teenage enthusiasm obvious and annoying, but also catching. I couldn't smile at Levi, but inside, I was excited for a road trip with Sally. Driving to Forks or Port Angeles or even Aberdeen had always been something we enjoyed doing. Sally loved movies and new places. She was also wide-eyed on our drives, marveling at the scenery, then at the cities.

We took the highway, passing through Forks and then we headed south, down along the coast. We knew the Cullens lived in Hoquiam, and we were relying on my sense of smell to find them once we got there. Sally played with her fingers in her lap, casting small shadows the cream dress she wore to the school dance at the end of May. The chiffon sleeves rustled a little in the breeze created by the open window.

"So…. where did you go?" she began hesitantly.

"I don't really know. I just ran. There were mountains and deserts, but mostly I just ran." I could barely remember anything about the last week now that I was with Sally again. My heartbeat was regular and warm in my chest.

She looked out the window. Her voice bounced off the glass and whispered back into the cab. "I missed you."

I blinked. I felt my face go blank in shock. Then the meaning of her words hit me.

"I missed you, too," I assured her.

"Don't leave again," she begged.

"I promise."

Hoquiam appeared suddenly, after driving through miles and miles of trees, houses began to crowd together. The highway took us into the heart of the city and I pulled to the side of the road to try to find the Cullens. I opened my car door and sniffed. Forest smells and human smells and the dirty dog in the fenced yard next to us were easy to smell and pinpoint. The Cullens were harder. I slammed my door and walked over to Sally's side of the Dodge pickup.

"I am going to go into that clump of trees," I said pointing to a nearby forest, "I will be right back." Sally nodded and I ran off to change into wolf form. My senses were heightened and I could smell the rubber and paint of the Ford Deuce, mixed with a painful lingering sweetness, they had been through here within the last week. The scent was headed south, so I returned to my human form and climbed into the pickup, returning to the journey.

We reached a bridge crossing the harbor and had to wait while the two large arms closed back together to allow automobile travel. Its metal tresses clinked into place and the road guards holding back the car in front of us raised up. The water was full of boats, small boats for fishing and some canoes pulled up on the shore. On the other side of the bridge, I stopped to get my bearings again. The buildings around us were five and six stories tall. The cloudy skies above kept out the sun. We continued on eastward. I kept the window open and occasionally sniffed the rushing air. The smell was getting stronger and as we turned northeast.

As my nose began to burn with an intensified smell of Carlisle, we drove past a hospital and then up into a secluded road surrounded with trees. The scents of cold ones got stronger until they burned my nose and I pulled into a driveway, hidden from the main road.

I was pretty sure this was a bad idea. Even though the Cullens claimed to not hurt humans, I knew it was their first instinct, and first instincts are hard to fight. I looked over hesitantly at the beaming Sally. Her bright eyes taking in every inch of the Cullens home, her skin flushing slightly.

"Isn't it pretty. So big and clean." She looked over at me suddenly. "Ready?" she asked with a smile.

I screw my mouth in response and whispered, "sure, sure."

I climbed out and then leaned back in to retrieve the cakes Sally made. She joined me at the rounded front of the pickup, with a smile on her face. She tried to lead the way up to the door, but I sprinted ahead of her, catching the glare on her face as I rushed by.

"Still trying to protect me, I see?" She asked with a little veiled bitterness.

"Always," came my reply. I climbed the stairs in front of me and before I could figure out how to knock, the door swung angrily open.

"You should not be here," Edward hissed. His face was filled with anger and something else, fear.

Sally peeked over my shoulder, "I wanted to thank your dad for helping me. Is he here?"

"No," came the quick response. "I will tell him you called, please leave now." From behind him, I could hear the scuffles of a struggle. Two women's voices sounded reassuring and desperate. Murmuring anxiously. Edward backed up and closed the door. It was strange, but scary. I turned and pointed back to the pickup with my head.

"It's time to go, Sally." She stuck her lip out in frustration, stomping her foot once before I heard the loud crash of stone hitting stone, and then the sound of running, the door opened with fury and I saw the largest vampire I had ever seen. He had short dark hair and huge shoulders which filled the doorway. His eyes were black and there was a wild look in his eyes I recognized. Hunger.

I looked down at the pink and chocolate frosted cakes in my hands. I threw the two cakes at his face and turned around. In one swift movement I picked up Sally at the waist and threw her over my shoulder, sprinting for the pickup. The potato salad spilled down my back and the glass bowl shattered on the sidewalk. Cookies scattered in the grass.

I threw her in the cab of the pickup and slammed the door, turning to face the vampires. Edward, Rosalie and their mother had their arms on the big one, holding him back. The frosting on his face had been wiped off and he almost had a smile on his face.

"Frosting. Classic."

I growled.

"I told you to leave. Please," Edward said. I slipped over to the other side of my vehicle and stepped inside, keeping my eyes on the house. Rosalie was now in front of the big one, pushing him backwards into the house with her family helping from behind. The door closed and I started the car.

"Who was that?" Sally squeaked, as though I had an answer to everything.

"A cold one. A vampire." It was all I could manage to squeeze through my teeth.

"Why is there a vampire with the Cullens?"

"They are all vampires," I shot at Sally in frustration. "That is why I became a wolf in the forest, to protect you from them. That cold one was out of control." The road was a blur. I hoped my arms remembered the path home and would get me there safely.

As I turned onto the main road, I saw the Ford Deuce parked across both lanes and Dr. Carlisle leaning up against it, his dark brown suit making him look more like a movie star than a doctor. I considered ramming through his car, but realized I owed him at least an explanation.

I parked and turned to Sally. "Stay in the pickup. Lock the doors as soon as I leave and if anything happens to me, drive home as fast as you can." Her eyes were as wide and scared.

"I can't drive," she murmured.

I stepped out and looked back through the window until Sally leaned over my seat and locked the door. I breathed, composing myself, and turned to face the doctor. The clouds filtered out the sun and a slight breeze caused the trees above us to rustle and sigh. I walked over to Dr. Carlisle and stopped twenty feet away. "Well?" I demanded.

"I must apologize for Emmett. He is young and does not yet have the control the rest of my family have mastered. If it helps, he couldn't stop laughing once you left. A cake to the face was a great distraction," Dr. Carlisle said with a smile despite his efforts to keep a straight face.

"I'm glad I amuse him," I spat back. "If he had taken even one more step toward me, he would have been dead."

"I understand that. I also understand your desire to protect your friend and your tribe. But you need to understand the predicament you have put us in. We moved to this area for the wildlife. Emmett has not been able to hunt because my wife and daughter are concerned about what would have happened if he had run into you while you were on patrol."

I interrupted, "I would have killed him. _That_ is what would have happened." I crossed my arms in front of me.

"Exactly. So he has been cooped up here at home, trying to survive on rabbits but really wanting Black bear and elk. We moved here so we would be close to the Olympic National Forest and all the wildlife surrounding it. We need to hunt." I understood what he was asking for. Permission. Carlisle's logic almost swayed me, but then I heard Sally shift behind me and my blood boiled at the memory of an out-of-control cold one so close to her.

"I need to get Sally home," I explained and motioned to his car in the way. He sighed, but returned to his car, pulling it out of my way. I tapped on the glass and Sally let me into the cab. Her face was a little wet, but she looked down, blocking her face with her hair. Carlisle passed on and returned home to his family. Sally refused to look at him.

"It's alright, Sally. I won't let them hurt you. Ever."

She sniffled and put her face in her hands. We drove that way for awhile, me wishing I could help her as she recovered from the shock of someone trying to eat her.

Finally I cleared my throat. "Sally, all the stories your grandfather tells at the legends campfires are true. A lot of them happened to him and me …. And Quil."

She looked out the window, her face reflecting in the glass so when I took my eyes off the road for a second, I could see her perfect face. I missed seeing that face for so long. My week away from her still caused my heart to hurt, just a little. I turned back to the road. "I am sorry I brought you down here. I had no idea they had an 'Emmett' out of control down there."

"No, I wanted you to bring me down. I wanted to say thank you. I could tell there was something wrong with them, my gut told me that. I guess I was just ignoring my gut. It's not your fault. I should have listened to grandpa," Sally said.

"Yeah, me too."

"Do you want a bean sandwich?" she asked. I looked over to meet her gaze.

"Sure."

She pulled out our hiking bag and pulled out a sandwich wrapped in wax paper. She opened the corner of it and handed it to me. My hand brushed hers on accident, as it had thousands of times before. But this time was different.

She noticed too, and smiled. Was it a spark? A tingle? I was not sure. We ate our brown bean sandwiches and she pulled out the canteen. "You really are prepared for anything, aren't you? Are you a boy scout now?" She grinned slightly at my joke and took another bite.


	11. Chapter 11

Jacob turned the page and a tarnished piece of old paper fell out onto the ground. He picked it up and unfolded it. It appeared to be a contract with stipulations and signatures at the bottom. His attention was caught by the names at the bottom: Carlisle Cullen and Ephraim Black. With a start, Jacob realized this was not a contract, but a treaty. The treaty. The one that allowed his pack to coexist almost peacefully with the vampire family his Nessie belonged to. He refolded the treaty and continued to read, playing with the frayed edges of the treaty unconsciously.

**September 10, 1936**

**Sometimes a monster is the only hope. We have made a treaty with the cold ones. **

Sally cannot get out of bed anymore. Since our roadtrip, I visited her everyday and she was getting worse. The wound on her leg developed red marks and ulcers and those ulcers started to show up on other parts of her body. The Forks doctor did not know what to make of it and the one in Port Angeles prescribed a pain killer, but nothing for the actual sores. Bixie remembered some salves her mother used to apply to sores, but that just made them bleed and ooze. The sores were growing.

She was in tears when I arrived. Her black hair hung limply down her back, sticking to her face and tears. Her green dress with the white squares looked as though she had slept in it and I realized that she had worn the same dress yesterday. "Ephraim," she begged, "hold me." I sat beside her on the davenport, her back leaning against my right side, and held her hand. She squeezed it when the pain got worse.

I knew what I wanted to do, but I was not sure I could convince Levi or Sally that it was a good idea. I could hear her grandfather breathing in the back room, unsure what to do as well.

"I think we need a doctor with… more experience." I finally said. She sniffled.

"I won't go down there again. You can't make me!" Sally said as she yanked her hand away from me and buried her face in her hands.

"Sssshhhhh. No one is making you do anything. I am just thinking maybe Dr. Carlisle will come here."

"Dr. Cullen hates me now, he won't come," Sally moaned. I considered that she was right. We were probably not his favorite people. After all, I had threatened most of the members of his family with death if I ever saw them again.

"Perhaps we could suggest a treaty," Levi said, coming out of his bedroom. His long white hair was pulled back with his old leather strap. "You said they wanted more territory to hunt. What if we split the county with them so they could hunt in the areas where the wildlife is the thickest, but we still keep them far away from La Push. An exception for this one group of cold ones who have not hurt any humans." Levi's suggestion was a good one. But could we really trust a group of bloodthirsty vampires to stay on one side of an imaginary line? Even human pale faces had a problem keeping treaties.

"We would have to write it. Our terms. Our wording," I paused for a moment. I looked at the back of Sally's head. "Do you trust Dr. Carlisle, Sally? Would it be okay if just he came?" She tilted her head back so I could look into her light brown eyes. She sniffled and nodded. "Okay, Levi," I said, "a treaty. Can you call Quil?"

"Did he finally get a telephone?" Levi asked incredulously.

"Sure did. Have the operator connect you to L2- 316." I traced a circle onto the back of Sally's hand and I felt her relax. She was asleep before Quil arrived.

Levi dug in kitchen drawers until he found a fountain pen and a thin lined notebook with a brown cardboard cover. He handed it to Quil and took his place on the maroon chair and Quil grabbed a wooden kitchen chair and straddled it backwards so he could rest his chin on the curved back. "I say they can't get within 50 miles of La Push," Quil began.

"From Neah Bay to Queets? That would help us protect the Makah and most of the Quinault reservations, too," Levi pointed out on the map he had spread out on his lap.

"But it would cut the Highway in half. And most of the good hunting ground, too. With 5 of them, they will probably need all the forest land they can get. How about we use that highway as the border, we patrol on the west side and they stay on the east," Levi looked worried. "That means the highway and Forks are…."

"No man's land," I said. That phrase reminded me of pain and death and war. It was the perfect name for it. Levi nodded and started sketching out the borders that the Cullens would be banned from crossing. Levi dictated the legalese, Quil's metal pen scratching the surface of the paper. I read the treaty.

Inasmuch as animal hunting is necessary for civilized coexisting for the Cullen family and humans, we, the Protectors of the Quileute Nation allow the Cullen family the hunting ground to the east of Highway 101 throughout Clallam County when both groups are in the area. The Protectors will patrol within one mile of the highway, leaving a no-man's land which will provide a buffer for the two groups. This treaty shall be considered null and void if

a) any Cullen or their associates shall ever bite a human

b) any Cullen or their associates shall reveal the existence of the Protectors to anyone

c) any Protector shall reveal the true nature of the Cullens to anyone outside the Protectors and their wives

d) either party is attacked by the other

This treaty does not hinder the necessary destruction of other parties who may infringe on the territory with the intent of bodily harm.

I looked up and Levi and Quil nodded once. "I think I should go alone to bring the treaty to them. I know where they live and there is no need to expose more of us to their tempers." I shuddered slightly, remembering the mere size of the one they called Emmett and his seething lack of control.

"No, Ephraim. You shouldn't go alone. I will come with you. That way Quil can stay behind and patrol," Levi spoke the words and I knew that was the way it would happen. Levi and I would bring the treaty down to the Cullens, and leave Quil behind, running the borders. I shuddered for a second time, knowing that bringing Levi was only a step better than bringing his granddaughter, but his voice allowed for no variation. He was my beta and he would be there to protect my back.

I was usually grateful that the Cullens lived over a hundred miles away, but as Levi and I bounced in my Dodge KC pickup, its two large headlights poking up from the rounded tire guards like a snail's eyes, I wished it did not take quite so long to get there. I was nervous. We needed Dr. Carlisle's help and the only thing we had to offer him was a treaty allowing them to hunt. Would it be enough? Would he consider helping Sally one more time? I knew I was relying on his compassionate nature. Can a cold one have compassion?

As we pulled up to the driveway that now represented terror to me, I noticed the broken glass and cookies had been cleaned up. Not even a sliver sparkled on the cement walkway. The wind blew the maple leaves in all the trees surrounding their large home. As expected, the Cullens knew we were coming. Whether they heard us or smelled us coming, I was not sure. Perhaps both. Edward stood on the porch with his arms folded in front of his chest, his hair rustling in the slight breeze. The door behind him was tightly closed. I looked at Levi and he nodded. The time had come.

I opened the door and closed it behind me while Levi mirrored my actions. He had the treaty in the notebook, although Sarah had carefully rewritten it onto some expensive paper she used for her calligraphy practice. I hoped the Cullens would agree to our terms. I wondered where Dr. Carlisle was.

"My father will be here shortly. We just called him at the hospital and he is on his way," Edward replied to my thought. Levi looked at me quickly, a bit of confusion on his face.

"This is the mind-reader," I whispered, knowing Edward could hear me whether or not I did.

We heard a pair of rubber tires turn up towards us and turned in time to see Carlisle in his Ford Deuce join us at his home. He was pale and blonde and wearing a white coat that almost reached his knees. Underneath, his white shirt and tie were crisp and modern. He stepped out and came over to us.

"Ephraim, good to see you," he said, taking my hand into his cold one, chilling each of my fingers as he did.

"Dr. Carlisle, this is Levi, Sally's grandfather. And my childhood friend."

Carlisle shook his hand too, and greeted him, but I couldn't help but notice he was comparing our age discrepancy. "Very interesting to meet you, Levi. I am sorry I cannot invite you in, but I am afraid Emmett has not been doing well lately."

The last thing I wanted to do was to be invited into his home where my nose would burn and my tongue with sting for hours afterwards.

Levi spoke up, "We are not here to impose. But we have come to ask a favor." I heard two vampires hiss, one inside and one from the porch. "But we have something to offer in return as a thank you. My granddaughter's leg has gotten worse. It has some sort of infection and it is spreading. The doctors do not know what to make of it. We thought that with your experience, perhaps you could…"

"Of course. If Sally is willing to have me look at it, I would be glad to," Carlisle said.

"We are willing to have you, and you alone, travel with us to La Push. And in exchange, we have written a treaty which will enable your family to hunt and will also ensure the safety of our people," I said. Levi handed him the treaty and Dr. Carlisle read it.

I tried to clear my mind so that Edward could read along with his father and not be distracted by my thoughts. But the hardest thing to do when you are trying to think of nothing, is to remove things from your mind. Instead I worried that they would find fault with the treaty or insist on more land or harsher terms. I wondered how Sally was doing and whether someone was with her while I was gone. She had not wanted us to leave and had cried and thrown a magazine at her mother before collapsing into tears on the davenport.

I caught my thought and quickly shifted my sight over to Edward. He was looking politely in the other direction. Trying to pretend, as I was, that he had not seen my weakness. Carlisle finished reading and silently asked Edward a question. After his son's subtle nod, Carlisle turned to us with a smile, chilling but warm. "I think this treaty will serve us both. I must admit, I think it is a solid document."

"Levi has been a tribal judge for decades," I said, giving credit where it was due.

I pulled out the fountain pen from my pocket and asked with my eyes for the treaty to be returned. I turned around, my back to their large home, and used my curved hood as a desk. I signed it and returned it to Carlisle. He accepted the pen, and the metal tip scratched the parchment again.

He stepped toward us, the treaty outstretched. "Here you are, Levi and Ephraim. Thank you for allowing us to hunt so close to your land." I nodded and took the treaty. "Might we ask permission for the treaty to go into effect immediately? Rosalie and I need to take Emmett hunting."

I thought about it. We had not discussed a timeline, but there was no real reason it could not be effective immediately. Although I did not know how attractive Levi's blood would be to a cold one since he was no longer able to shift to his wolf form.

"He smells pretty bad," Edward assured me.

"Well then," I said with a little annoyance, being sure to speak my thoughts this time, "once we are gone, the treaty can be in force. Carlisle, do you have time to come look at Sally's leg now?"

"Of course. I will be right behind you. And I promise this will be the last time any of my family comes to La Push, unless we are specifically invited by one of the Protectors." He seemed to truly understand how important this was to us. I was grateful the leader of this group of vampires was so compassionate and understanding.

"As are we all," Edward assured me. Carlisle left the treaty in my hand and returned to the porch.

I had hoped the ride home would be a happy one. The treaty signed, the problem evaded, instead I had nothing to concentrate on but the memory of Sally's face, pained and alone on the davenport. Her black hair streaming down over the edge of the maroon upholstered arm, her leg draped over the embroidered seat, full of red and angry sores. La Push could not come soon enough. I started to breathe harder as we rounded the Forks corner and the pine trees began to close in, ever so slightly. I took a deep breath and hoped Levi had not noticed.

"It's okay. It has been a long day. I miss my Sarah, too," Levi said.

After miles of trees, the houses started to appear. Scattered at first and then more tightly bunched together. "He's behind us now," Levi said with a quick glance over his shoulder. We arrived at the Uley/Hudson home and parked only a moment before Dr. Carlisle did. He grabbed his bag from the front seat and joined us at the door. I could hear Sally's breathing through the rough wood. She was sleeping.

I opened the door and let in a rush of sea-scented air. Sally laid on the davenport, just as she had been when I left her, her face pointed toward the door, but her eyes closed. Her leg had gotten worse, the ulcers seemed to grow even as I stared at them. The sound of two pairs of men's boots stomping on the wooden entry way woke her up. At first she seemed alarmed, awakened abruptly and not finding herself alone. But her face softened as she recognized her grandfather and me.

"You're back!" she gushed. I smiled at her enthusiasm. Her mother sighed from the kitchen. The warm smells of a stew filled the house. I stepped to the side and Sally saw Dr. Carlisle. Sally recoiled slightly, a painful memory of nearly being attacked fresh on her face.

"Sally," I said trying to soothe her, "Dr. Carlisle has come to look at your leg. He won't hurt you, I promise.

He looked at me, slightly frustrated, but then addressed Sally. "I am sorry you caught Emmett on a bad day, Sally. He wanted me to apologize for him. I have brought you some medicine for your leg. May I?" He indicated approaching her.

"Okay, but Ephraim has to hold my hand," she looked at me hopefully.

"Sure, sure," I replied. That was next on my list of things to do anyway. I knelt down next to her head and Dr. Carlisle approached her leg. He opened his bag and took out two small glass bottles with black lids.

"You have caught Sporotrichosis from the wood injury. It is a fungus and not a true infection. You will need to take one of these pills three times a day until these bottles are empty. It will start feeling better right away, but make sure to finish the bottles," Dr. Carlisle said, placing the bottles in Sally's outstretched hand. "My family is waiting for me, I had best go." He gave me a pointed look before turning toward the door.

"I will see you out," I said. I followed him out to his sleek shiny black car before he turned to me.

"Make sure she finishes all those pills or the fungus will take over again," he said. I nodded and then couldn't help myself. I had to ask him how he knew so quickly. He seemed to sense my question. Even without his son's ability, he was good at reading faces and human nature. "Edward could see the ulcers in your mind and he described them to me. I was pretty sure it was Sporotrichosis, but I brought three other prescriptions just in case." He smiled slyly at his little joke.

"Thank you for everything and if you could let us know when you guys move out of the area, we will patrol a larger territory again."

"Oh, of course," Carlisle answered, "And if we ever move back, we will make sure to let your tribe know as well."

"Move back?" I asked.

"Yes, well, there are only so many overcast places for us to choose from. We rotate through our favorites, but we never come back until at least 60 years from when we left. Usually people have forgotten us by then."

I tightened my lips in displeasure. I really did not want to run into these guys in another 60 years. "Well, if you do ever come back, the treaty will be in force."

We thanked each other one last time and he stepped into his car and drove away.

**December 23, 1936**

**Things to remember about imprinting:**

**1. It hurts.**

**2. It is wonderful.**

**3. When she is ready, you will be ready.**

"Do you think we will get arrested?" Sally asked with excitement flushing her cheeks. I took my eyes from the fir lined road and was taken aback by her beauty. How had I convinced this wonderful girl to spend time with me? Her light brown eyes looked worried beneath their anticipation. Her black hair was cut to her shoulders and curled tight against her head.

I patted her thigh, covered in a new white dress with a short belted jacket on top of it, cinched to fit her form. "Of course not. Walkathons are not illegal in Vancouver." She giggled and wiggled in her seat. I smirked, "Yet." The radio had slated this as "the last dance-athon in Washington" and we were determined to be there. In the last three months, Sally's leg had healed just as Dr. Carlisle had said it would and now she was anxious to join in a dance competition.

We pulled into the heavily populated town and searched for the Vancouver Sport Palace where the dance was being held. The brick and wooden buildings reached up several stories, casting shadows as the evening hour approached. The parking lot was nearly full and the clarinet and piano swing music danced across the air to us as we approached. I parked in a distant spot and jumped out in time to open the door for Sally.

She mimicked my mock formality and said, "Thank you kind sir," as I held out my hand to her and stood up from a low bow. My Dodge pickup was one of hundreds of car parked around the Sport Palace.

We left our winter coats in the pickup, the day had been sunny and warm. Sally wore a short-sleeved jacket and I was in just a white shirt and pants. We tried to choose comfortable things so we could dance for hours without getting sore or hot.

We paid our entry fee, filled out the papers saying we were healthy, and joined the other dancers on the floor. The spectators lined the bleachers and walls, pushing against each other for a better view. Some people were already dancing, but most were waiting for the official start of the competition. There was a kitchen on the side and the evening meal supplied to the dancers was already wafting onto the dance hall.

The band consisted of probably 20 men, with different instruments and of different races. They were playing a cheerful jazzy piece written to get everyone excited. It was working on Sally. She grinned up at me and held tighter onto my hand.

The emcee tapped on the microphone and got our attention. "Welcome to the Transcontinental Derby Show. I am Al Painter. Are you ready to dance?" He waited for the crowd's roar and continued, "We'd like to thank Vancouver for the use of this great new Sports Palace and Bill Darby's Continentals for the music. A big thanks also goes to KWJJ and Mikey who are playing us on the radio. You all know the rules. Dance for 45 minutes, then rest for 15. No knees on the floor and if you stop moving, a judge will ask you to leave. Dinner will be served on the first break. We will have a sprint later on, plus some comedians and live singing tomorrow night, but for now, let's dance!"

I turned to Sally and took her hand in mine, my other hand finding a home on her waist. She balanced a hand on my shoulder and we started to bounce and dance in time to the cheerful music. Sally had wanted to practice before tonight, but I convinced her that no amount of practice would change the way I danced. My feet bounced in time to the music, raising our whole bodies an inch with each step.

The people around us were dancing in a similar fashion, with only the occasional professional dancer venturing into more difficult tap dancing and flourishes. I was just happy to be holding Sally. The last few months had brought changes. Now that she understood the dangers in our world, she was more accepting of me as her protector. The thought of me as a wolf still terrified her, so I did not bring it up.

The people pressed closely around us, a surge of humanity bouncing in time with the swing music. The audience clapped and oohed at the occasional amazing move.

At the midnight dance session, the music shifted from the exciting swing and jazz pieces to a slow song by Cole Porter. A woman in a dress smooth along her body but flouncy at the shoulders and below the knees took her place at the microphone and began to sing. "So worth the yearning for, so swell to keep all the home fires burning for," she crooned and I felt Sally lean into me further. There was no longer any space between our bodies. I could feel every curve and each straight line and she fit like she belonged there.

She swayed back and forth to my lead, my arm wrapped all the way around her back, cinching her close to me. Throughout a lengthy instrumental interlude she clung to me. As the singer joined in again, to end the song, Sally tilted her head up toward mine. She rubbed her nose on my chin, softly, pleading. I bent down to her and our lips were at the same level. She closed her eyes in hope and I could no longer resist the softness of her. I pressed my lips against hers and was surprised when after a few seconds, her mouth opened slightly, begging for more. I caressed her top lip, and then her bottom lip. She moaned in approval and deepened the connection as well.

Just as I was about to kiss her deeper, I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Sir, you can't kiss in here," came the squeaky voice of a skinny man in an old suit. I looked over at him darkly. "It's in the rules…" he justified.

I looked back to Sally who looked embarrassed but conspiratorial at the same time. She reached up on her tip toes and threw her arms around my neck, pulling me down for another kiss.

She smiled with each caress and then whispered, "Now will we get arrested?" She laughed and I kissed her forehead and led her off the dance floor while the man in the old suit crossed his arms in disapproval.

She let her laughter free once we were outside and Sally led me, hands tight, almost running, to my pickup. The parking lot was darker now, with only streetlights along the outside edges lighting the cars. We hadn't planned on getting disqualified so quickly, and had no plans in Vancouver. The first meal of the night had been sandwiches and oranges, so a meal wasn't even necessary. As we jolted to the car, her hand tightly holding mine, I wondered what we were going to do. A six hour drive home did not seem like a wise idea. The quarter moon peaked out behind the clouds, then disappeared again, dark clouds enveloping it.

Sally flipped around to face me once she reached the pickup. She looked at me, guessing, wanting. Then she whispered, "Kiss me again, Ephraim." And I obeyed.

This time it was soft and timid. There was no music to encourage us, no audience to be scandalized, only the two of us. Alone. I placed my hand on her arm, still by her side. My thumb found the inside of her elbow, soft and almost hiding beneath the short-sleeved jacket. My lips found hers again, kissing and pressing and worshipping. Sally raised her right arm up to my shoulder and pulled me closer to her, touching.

The rain hit my hair and cooled the back of my neck. I stopped to look up and smiled as I got a face full of cold December rain. Sally squealed and turned to the pickup. She tugged at the handle, trying to open the door and escape the rain. With a jerk, it opened and she climbed inside, her hair dripping onto her darted jacket, darkening it in stripes. The curls she has spent so long pincurling and tucking under came undone and her hair hung loosely around her shoulders.

I followed her inside and closed the door behind me. The rain echoed loudly on the metal roof, begging an entrance. Long streams of water wound down the windshield and windows, trapping us inside. Sally wiped her face with her hand and shifted off her long wool coat which was slung over her side of the seat. She leaned forward to put it on, staring at each button carefully as she closed the coat around her, trying to conserve as much heat as she could.

Finally done, she looked up at me. "Now what?"

It was late and cold and we were tired. But I had finally kissed her, finally told her with my actions how I felt about her. I pondered the next steps: the conversations and the caressing.

But it was past midnight. And we were tired. "Let's get out of here," I said and turned to start my pickup. The headlights bounced through the rain, allowing me to see just a few feet ahead of us. I drove over to a more secluded place, to the west near a lake where the lampposts could not reach. The lake was doppled with falling rain, echoing the drops on the roof. I turned off the car. I hadn't brought any camping gear, but the seat running all the way across the pickup was big enough for one night of lounging.

I put my back against the window and motioned for Sally with my arms. She dove in, wrapping her arms around my waist and laying her head on my chest, like we had when she was ten. But this time it was different. I felt a need for her, and felt that need from her as well.

I reached down beside Sally on the seat and pulled up my trenchcoat. It was a doublethick gabardine coat with a wide collar and thick buttons. I laid it on her like a blanket and stroked her hair, wishing for time to freeze tonight and speed up to the time when we could do all the things we wanted to do. My hand was rough and it caught strands of her hair as I stroked, parts of her becoming attached to parts of me.

In the morning, the pickup's windows were foggy. The windshield faced east and had already cleared. The sun was throwing light across the water, sparkling and glowing. I watched a Merganser land quietly on the still lake. I lifted my right hand again and stroked Sally's hair, waking her up the same way I had put her to sleep. She looked up at me tentatively, unsure where we were or perhaps what we were doing.

"Did we really get kicked out of a dance-athon?" she smiled quietly.

"Yes, for kissing," I said, pointedly.

"That part I remember," she said pushing herself up on my chest until her face was even with mine. Her good morning kiss was quick and lovely. She slid back down my shirt and sighed. Then she tensed, "Do we have to tell my dad?"

"Well, I think he will know we got kicked out of the dance when we arrive home today."

"No," Sally said, hitting my chest when she saw my smile, "about the kissing."

"Do you think it will upset him?" I was curious to learn what her father thought about me.

"I don't know. I just don't want him to worry about me and I always told him there was nothing going on between us, so now if there is…" she trailed off, not quite sure what it meant or even what was going on between us. She looked at me again, "Ephraim, what am I to you?"

"You are my everything, Sally. My best friend, my soul mate, my everything."

"For how long?"

"What?" I asked, confused by the question.

"How long have you loved me?" she clarified.

I wanted to say forever, because that was what it felt like. But the love had changed in such strange ways since the beginning, that it felt wrong to even call it by the same name. Love. So vague and confusing. Love for a child and love of a friend and love for a girlfriend and even love for a wife were different and yet we use the same word.

My hesitation hurt Sally. "Oh," she said in defeat.

She sat up, careful not to come in contact with my chest again. She was about to scoot to the other side of the pickup, but my heart ached at her absence. I reached out and pulled her close again, kissing the top of her head. She looked up and I took her face in my hands.

"Sally, I love you more today than I have ever loved you before. You are all that I want, all that I need. When you were a child, I loved you with the love a parent has. Now that you are a woman, I love you with more love than I can imagine. Never doubt my love for you," I said. I smiled and released her face.

She blinked back tears. "I love you too," she whispered. I reached out to her chin, caressing her jawline back to her hair. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

I chuckled at her change of subject. "Sure, sure. Let's go get breakfast."

On the drive home after our breakfast at a diner, Sally sat in the middle of the cab, cuddled against my side. She held my hand possessively. I let her decide what to tell her father and mother. She said she was going with dating, but that sounded too much like what the college kids did: setting a different date for each night. She said that the only other thing to be was engaged, and since we were not that, dating had to do.

I twitched nervously, wishing there was a better word for what we had. I would just have to ask her to marry me as soon as I could. I wanted everyone everywhere to know that we were together.


	12. Chapter 12

**June 25, 1937**

**Today I married my Sally. **

**Saw the Cullens. Made my blood boil. Never wished I would run into a vampire before, but a little destruction would feel good about now.**

The softly muted paintings of palm trees, native canoes and people with black hair and skirts lay spread out on my table. There were pamphlets with tall buildings, hotels and trains. There were so many choices, so many ways and places to travel. I loved the idea of showing Sally the world, but it was something that would have to be done on a vacation basis, not throughout our lives. Our honeymoon was the perfect chance to show Sally that I loved travel, too. That I wanted to show her everything, to bring her everywhere.

Yesterday I drove back to Port Angeles to pick up her ring and brought the pamphlets with the carefully circled itineraries with me. It was the day I paid for my part of the wedding.

We were married just today. Sally wore a rust colored suit with a tight fitting skirt, and I wore a black suit. Matthew and Ruth insisted on paying for the whole thing. I would have fought them except that I knew I was going to make up for it on the honeymoon.

It had taken a few weeks to convince Matthew that I was the best suitor for his daughter. I wasn't there for most of it, but Ruth said it mostly involved Sally whining, "But I _love_ him." Matthew was pretty specific on the ways he would disembowel me with an ax if I ever hurt his little girl, and I let the fear of not marrying her sneak into my eyes and he felt he had reached me.

We invited our family and friends and held the ceremony in my backyard. It had rained on Tuesday, and Sally was nearly in tears thinking that it might rain on her wedding day. I held her close and whispered in her ear that I would build an awning large enough for everyone if I saw even one cloud in the morning. She started to laugh and I knew she was imagining me trying to make anything before the 10 am ceremony.

One of the tribal council members performed the marriage. All the wolf families were there and my sister Tobt'a came with her granddaughter Ava Smith who had just married a Clearwater from the Quinault reservation. She was round before she got married and now that she was pregnant, it was even more obvious. She and her husband had moved into Tobt'a's house to care for her now that her eyes were failing. Tobt'a limped slowly up to us to congratulate us. She reached out and I took her hand in mine.

"Thank you, Tah-yat'l," There was still pain in her cloudy eyes, still a memory of watching her sister be killed. But the years had taught her other things too. Love, hope, trust. She had never thanked me for saving her, in part because part of her wanted to die when her sister died. But now that she was nearly a great-grandmother, she could see the good that had come of her living. Perhaps she had learned that decades ago, but this was the first time I had allowed myself to see it. To see that she valued the life I had saved her for.

"You are welcome, Tobt'a. Thank you for coming."

Once the carrot cake was eaten and the people had gone back to their homes, I scooped Sally up and placed her in the pickup. "Are we leaving for our honeymoon already?"

"Yup," I answered, indicating our tower of brown suitcases already in the pickup. I closed the door and she scooted to the edge of the seat and shoved the suitcases over to her side, near the window. She shifted down, balancing on the front of the seat so that I found her right next to me as I climbed into my side of the cab. She grabbed my arm and leaned against my shoulder. Her gold ring glistened in the sunlight of the day. The pearl at the center of the golden bluebell reminded me that treasures are found where not expected.

I had the ring made, engraved with Sally's favorite flower and filigreed on the sides to pick up more light. At least that is what the jeweler said it would do. The white background was a cut stone, like the background of a cameo silhouette, edged in maroon around the outside oval. I had surprised her with it by pulling it out of my pocket during the ceremony this morning. She had a look of unabashed surprise. I turned to her and smiled.

"So, Mr. Black. Where are we going?"

"Well, Mrs. Black. You know that is a secret. You will know once we get there. But we need to get started if we want to get there on time." We drove away from La Push, heading toward our life together.

As we turned past Forks and headed south on the highway, I felt Sally's grip on me slacken slightly as she drifted to sleep. It was only noon, but the sunny day made the cab warmer than normal and Sally had not slept much in the last few days. She tied all the flowers into garlands and sewed the short veil onto her hat. The firs and cedars zipped past us on either side of the highway.

We were not alone on the road. Red, black and the occasional brown cars driving north wooshed past. There was even a Model T, 1916, which made me feel a little nostalgic for my truck that died. I was keeping my mind on Sally, her beautiful black hair curled and tucked under for the day, her tan hands gripping my arm even in sleep. I could see her even with my eyes on the road.

We took the road west, to where I could see out over the Pacific Ocean. Just knowing that soon I would be out on it, giving Sally another thing she longed for, thrilled me and made me accelerate. I had used almost 20 years of savings for this vacation, and I hoped it would thrill her as much.

A sleek expensive car was approaching, looking very much out of place amongst the trees and grass lining the highway. The grill and front bumper were pointed at the front, splitting the wind onto either side of the car. The 1935 Auburn was tan with maroon tire guards and an angel-like design as a hood ornament. I also thought there was an angel at the wheel until I realized the angel had black eyes. Her blonde hair was split down the middle and curled under, making her look like a movie star. It was Rosalie. Beside her in the car was Emmett. His eyes were mostly black, but had a circle of orange near the outside edge that made me uncomfortable.

They were both smiling until they saw me staring. In the split second before we passed, Rosalie scowled and Emmett laughed and waved. I averted my eyes back to the road and drove on, trying to push down the anger and hate that swelled up by instinct. They were allowed to drive there, I reminded myself. They are allowed to be on the road. They are allowed to hunt animals in the Forest. I tensed at the word 'hunt.'

I could not relax after that. Seeing them had reminded me that we could be passing through Hoquiam where they lived. If I could have held my breath the remaining 50 miles to the vampires' hometown, I would have. Instead, I counted Sally's breaths, trying to calm myself as I did.

We drove through Humptulips with its large fields and shrubby trees. As I approached Hoquaim, Sally drooped off my shoulder and the jolt woke her up. She looked up, startled and then stretched to full length, away from me, showing me the long sleek lines of her body.

She pulled her jacket back down over her white collared shirt and asked, "Where are we?" I was about to answer when I heard her sigh, "oh." She remembered this part of the trip last time.

It had been almost a year since we had taken this trip together the first time. But we both remembered it more clearly than we wanted to.

"Don't worry," I said, "We won't be making any stops here. It's just the only way to go south."

"I know. I'm okay." And she smiled up at me, trying to convince us both.

We ate lunch on the road and kept driving south. Now that she was awake, she peppered me with questions, trying to get hints about where we were going. I kept answering with a drawn out "may-be." She put a smile on my face without even trying. Soon I had forgotten about the Cullens and I thought only of Sally and her surprise.

I intentionally drove past the Sports Palace on our way through Vancouver. The parking lot was empty and barren. It made her smile and she reached up to kiss my cheek. I let go of the steering wheel with my right hand and put my arm around her shoulder, holding it close. We stopped for dinner where we ate breakfast so long ago, and a different waitress even let us sit in our original booth.

By the time we were back on the road, long dark shadows surrounded us on every side. I considered staying the night in Portland, but we had another day of driving ahead of us and if we didn't make it to at least Salem tonight, it would never work.

"Ephraim, are we going to drive our whole honeymoon? I am so tired," Sally said as the sun threw orange light into her window. Her eyes drooped, then popped open again.

"Do you see those bright lights ahead? That's Salem. We'll stay there for tonight."

"I am afraid I will be asleep before we get there," she slurred.

"That's okay. I can carry you in," I reassured her and she drifted off to sleep.

**June 28, 1937**

**I killed a cold one on the ship and dropped her into the water. **

The S.S. Mariposa loomed over us like a Douglas Fir, reaching to a sky we could hardly see. Its white sides reflected in the water, making it hard to even look at. It was definitely bigger than I had imagined. I parked my truck in the lot near the dock and paid the attendant waiting there. Sally scooted out my door, her pink pinstriped dress with coat tailoring and a silver buckle tightening around her knees as she did. She tugged along her cylindrical make-up bag and I hefted the suitcases out of the passenger side for the third time on this trip. The old brick smell of the Palace Hotel in Ukiah and the smell of rose soap from Salem's Marion Hotel lingered in my nose.

I looked over at Sally, her eyes staring back at mine. "Are we going on a Passenger Cruise?"

"Sure are. To Hawaii. And Australia. You like to travel, right?" I joked with her. She broke into a huge smile and tried to take my hand, but it was still holding our suitcases. We approached the large ship and I put down the luggage to show our tickets. Two cruise employees picked up our bags, so I took Sally's hand and followed them up the ramp.

The smell started as a hint of cinnamon and cider, but each step up the ramp brought the smell stronger until it burned my nose. There was a cold one on the cruise ship. I looked around quickly, but the scent was so weak I knew I would not be able to see anything.

We were led to our room with a bed and a separate section with a davenport and an overstuffed chair, tan with black accents. It was just after one and we had lunch in a café on a slanted road in San Francisco. I looked over at Sally to see if she wanted to join in the party we had walked through, a celebration the bellhop said would last until we cast off at 4, but she had other ideas. She calmly put down her bag and turned to leap on me, throwing her arms around my neck. She kissed me, pulling me in deep and recalling the last two evenings we spent together.

A deep desire rumbled and rose up in me as I kissed her lips, and traced her lips with my tongue, begging for entrance. I stepped backwards until I could feel the bed pushing against my calves. I laid down, bringing Sally with me in one motion. She laughed in surprise and pressed her lips against mine again, my hands caressing her back.

We missed the send-off while we were in our room. Sally's hair was no longer in place. The stray hairs caught the light and made a halo for her head as we walked down to the dining room. We had changed into evening wear for dinner. I noticed the aroma of painfully sweet vampire in that air and my heart quickened a little. I took my wife's hand and led her to a table far from the pianist and singer in a brightly flowered shirt.

As the song ended, the Captain welcomed everyone to the cruise and let us know the schedule, which was also printed in the programs in our room. We had not noticed a program, but then, we had not noticed much beyond the bed. I squeezed Sally's hand under the table and she looked up at my longing eyes and blushed in recognition.

As the waiters brought our food, I looked around, trying to spot the vampire. The smells of the roast pig, peppers and pineapple, served to get us in a Hawaiian mood, interfered with the subtle sweetness of this vampire. The ginger sauce had hints of cinnamon and for a moment I doubted myself. Had I only smelled dinner as I boarded the ship?

After dinner, we gave ourselves a tour and almost got lost. Every door I opened or walked past was another place to do something fun. There were two plunges, with diving boards and chairs for lounging, a library, hair salon, hospital room, tailor, printshop, general and souvenir stores and a dance pavilion. We rode an elevator up to an observation deck, and then back down to the public areas.

Sally kept jumping up with each newly revealed diversion. She said, "Ooh, let's do that tomorrow," about 15 different times. This was a 52-day cruise and I realized it may take that long to do everything Sally wanted to do.

We ended at the dance pavilion, and although my feet were begging for a rest, I let Sally pull me inside. Her shiny black and gray dress swished around her high heel shoes. As I held onto her waist and hand for a slow song, I bent down and placed a kiss on her revealed shoulder. I started to follow the line of her neck with my nose and kisses and she whispered, "Ephraim." I felt encouraged and continued up to her neck until she whispered again, "I don't want to get thrown out again." I smiled into her soft skin and stood up to kiss her forehead.

"Sure, sure. I'll stop."

I practically carried her back to our room, my arm around her waist. She was so tired, she could hardly keep her eyes open. I fumbled with the metal key and finally let us into our room. I helped her over to the bed and laid her back on it. I knelt and slipped off her shoes, then reached up under her long shiny dress and rolled down her nylons, unclipping them at her thighs. She smiled and pretended to be asleep. I slipped out of my jacket and tie and found her sleeveless v-neck nightgown in the dresser. I rolled her over onto her tummy to unzip the dress. I found the pull at the top and slowly inched the zipper down, letting my fingers trail down her back.

She flipped over suddenly, laughing. "That tickles!" she claimed. I decided to remind her what tickling really felt like and her laughter filled our room.

I got her settled in and held her until she fell asleep. I scooped up her dress, tossed on the carpet in a shiny pile, and lifted her slip to hang them in the closet. I felt too restless to sleep. I knew there was a cold one somewhere on deck. Now that I was alone with my thoughts, I could not rest until the vampire was dead. I changed into a pair of tan khaki pants and a light blue shirt. If there was an emergency, these clothes were easily replaced.

I leaned over and kissed my Sally on the forehead. She stirred slightly, a smile curling on her lips. I locked the door behind me and started to hunt. Even during our wanderings, I had not been able to locate the cold one's room. I decided I would start at the bottom level and work my way up. There were over 1100 people aboard the S.S. Mariposa, although only 700 were passengers. What if the cold one worked here? What a perfect cover, all he could need would be a stormy day and a body would suddenly be overboard, never found or investigated. I gritted my teeth in anger and rode the elevator to the bottom.

I walked along each hallway and I often smelled the cinnamon and cider painful odor, but never very strongly, as though the vampire had walked every inch of the ship as well. I realized perhaps he did.

I weaved back and forth along hallways until I had searched outside each of the rooms. Still nothing. I took the elevator up to the surface and took in a deep breath of salt air. I turned to the right and caught a whiff of cinnamon.

The deck was abandoned. I could see the captain and some of his men behind some windows above the deck. I waved with a quick hand movement and a tightlipped smile and continued on until I was out of their sight. The odor was getting stronger, mixing with the smell of fish and the tropically floral smells coming from the garlands draped over the edges of the railing.

The moon over my shoulder was no longer full, but it was a clear night and I could see every item on the deck. The chairs were stacked to one side and the lifeboat had a tight canvas cover pulled over it. The smell was stronger now, and it was not cider, it was apple cider vinegar I could smell mixed with the cinnamon. I felt as though a cup of it had been thrown in my face. I rubbed my nose instinctively, trying to remove the smell. The eerie white moonlight bounced off the metal railings peaking through the bright pink plumeria flowers.

"Hey there, handsome. Are you looking for someone?" A sultry voice floated over my shoulder. I turned around quickly to see a beautiful brunette, her hair curled and tight around her head. Her eyes shone black in the moonlight, and her skin was painfully white. Her body matched her voice with a come-hither angle, but her eyes had an innocence about them. She gazed in my eyes and continued, "Where is that cute little thing you came in with? Are you bored already? Tsk tsk, bored on his honeymoon."

"How did you know…?" I didn't want a conversation with this vampire in front of me, but her knowledge caught me off guard.

"Oh, I just know about relationships," she answered. I realized from her smugness this was a gift of hers. I did not really care.

"What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" I ventured, stalling her while I tried to verify her intentions. I could feel myself starting to shake a little. It was hard to hold it all together so near to something so evil. I used my ears and nose to check our surroundings without letting her know. Sure enough, we were alone.

"Just getting some fresh air. And you?"

"Are you sure you weren't looking for dinner? You look pretty hungry," I baited her, indicating I knew more about her than the normal person. I did not really enjoy preemptive strikes. Especially against a female. I knew what she was and how dangerous she was, but I wanted her to know I knew. I hoped it would be enough to get a reaction out of her.

It was. She leaped out at me, claws and teeth aimed at my neck. I ripped through my clothes, phasing to meet her midair, biting off one of her hands. I spit it out over the banister and heard it plop into the ocean. Hate flamed in her eyes and she flashed her eyes from where her hand fell to where I stood on four paws, facing her down.

Before she could try again, I jumped on her, knocking her to the ground, and took off her other arm. She screamed obscenities and I knew someone would come investigate soon. With a great chomp I split her head from her neck and tossed the noisy head overboard. I decided to play it safe and tear up the rest of the body as much as I could before I dropped it over the edge too.

I heard footsteps running toward me. There were still chunks of white flesh around me and torn clothes scattered everywhere. I looked around in a near panic. There was no place to hide. The lifeboat covers were too tight to squeeze underneath. The running was coming from the direction I had come from, so I ran forward, toward the back of the ship and darkness from lights, although I knew I would be perfectly visible in the moonlight. Against one of the deck chairs, I saw a grass skirt.

I quickly phased back to human and put the skirt around me. I lounged on the deck chair and pretended to sleep.

"Hey mister. Mister, did you hear anything?" a ship employee questioned as he shook my shoulder. I rubbed my eyes and replied blearily. He continued, "You can't sleep here. Do you need help back to your cabin?"

"What? Oh, uh no. I can do it I think," I replied and stumbled away from the elevator.

"This way, sir," the helpful young man said, leading the fake drunk me back and checking every direction for more evidence of the ruckus he had heard before. I assured him I was fine once I reached the elevator and I quickly returned to my room.

Sally was still sleeping. I changed out of my grass skirt and into pajamas. I slipped in behind Sally and pulled my arms around her, allowing the smells of her hair and the shape of her body relax me to sleep.

**July 5, 1937**

**Quil caught a cold one wandering on our land. He tried to take him on by himself. It did not end well. **

Sally wore a different lei each day we spent on the island. It was easy to do since there were crowds of young people with their arms full of flowers everytime we got off the ship. The smell of fresh pikake, plumeria, ginger, tuberose, and gardenias filled the docks and danced in the hula skirts worn by the girls.

"Let's go to the waterfalls, today," Sally begged with her eyes on our third daytrip to the Big Island. We had spent days on the beach and shopping already. A hike in the rainforest leading to waterfalls seemed like the next thing to do. I suspected she had planned this. I looked down at her feet and realized she was wearing her hiking boots. Her shortpants still smelled faintly of Dr. Carlisle even though they had been washed. I had told her we would not need boots on our honeymoon, but she had not believed me and obviously she had proved me wrong. I tucked my arm around hers and kissed her forehead.

"Sure, sure."

We took a cruise-owned bus up to the end of the Manoa Valley car line with 5 other people, squished together with our leis filling the space until it was so thick I could taste flowers on my tongue. It was a warm, humid day and the humidity made every flower and every person more fragrant than usual.

A large couple sat in the front four seats, their girths plastered with Hawaiian flowers and taking up more than their share of the seats. An older couple, with a five-year-old grandchild bouncing in her Shirley Temple curls and short coat-dress sat in the middle and I pulled Sally to the back with me, leaving a few empty double seats between us and the other passengers. She alternated between peering out the windows, memorizing each fiddlewood and rose apple tree along the way, and leaning back into my chest when I would steal a kiss. She looked up at me and smiled.

At the parking area, we all got out and the driver stepped away to smoke a cigarette. The elderly couple could barely keep up with their little girl, short blue dress wrinkling as she ran down the trail. The couple in muumuus looked closely at a few bamboo stalks and fragrant aroids, then climbed back into the bus.

"Be back in an hour, then again every hour after that. Last bus leaves in six hours from now," the driver reminded us. He took one last desperate drag on his quickly shrinking cigarette and flicked it away. It landed on the gravel and went out.

Sally and I turned toward the trail and took in the smells and sights so new and beautiful. I held her hand as we walked under bamboo and palm trees. The cricket trills and bird calls filled the air and we felt nature all around us. The strawberry guava plants were starting to ripen and a sweet edible smell filled my nose.

We passed palm grass and ferns that reminded me of forests at home, but these were softer and fuller. Climbing vines covered many of the trees and bushes. As we turned a corner to the left, we could see the valley spread out below us. A lush green v and a bright blue sky. There were clouds dancing and wafting on a gentle breeze. We might have stood there forever, had the elderly couple not come by, returning back to the parking lot, an exhausted little girl resting her head on his shoulder.

I shook myself from reverie and let Sally take the lead up the shrinking trail. The two person wide trail had shrunk down to only fit one of us at a time. Halfway down the back wall as the three-tiered Manoa Falls. I swatted a mosquito on my arm and kept hiking.

Thin infant koka trees covered the right side of the trail, with a sign that these were part of a reforestation. Its rough, reddish-brown bark reminded me of the Redwoods and a certain vampire's hair. I pushed away the thought, blaming Sally's pants for bringing to my mind the family I had not thought about for 4 days.

Finally we reached a place where we could see all three falling tiers of the waterfall. There were rocks near the edge of the pool, full of white frothy splashes. I pulled Sally closer to the falls until water splashed up on us, sprinkling our shirts with sweet cold water. I reached out to a hanging tuberose and pulled off a flower. I turned to Sally and tucked it behind her ear. She smiled and sat down on the rock, pulling her legs in tight to her body.

"I love it here," she said wistfully. "Can we stay here forever?"

I smiled, but was reminded of why we couldn't stay here. I wondered how Quil was doing all by himself. I was suddenly pulled away into a series of thoughts and memories. I remembered the first time I had phased and thought about how there had been no contact between our teenage boys and cold ones since Quil and I had stumbled onto the vampire in the back alley, except George. None of our cousins had phased into wolf form. They never went hunting, just fishing and school. And now that the Cullens were staying off our land, and there would be no contact for a while. It protected our cousins, but it also kept our numbers small.

I realized I had not been paying attention to Sally. She looked up at me expectantly, as though she was awaiting an answer. "What?" I asked.

"Would it be okay if we rested here for a little while? My feet are feeling tired," she repeated. "This would be a good place for our lunch, anyway."

"Of course, honey. Do you mind if I hike for a little while? I need to check on something. I will be right back."

"Sure, I will get the picnic spread out while you do," she replied.

I turned and strolled back into the forest. The rock was warm and relaxing, but I would not concentrate on that until I had at least tried to check on Quil. I did the math in my head. It would be 3 or 4 p.m. in La Push. With any luck, Quil would be running patrol before dinner. I found a bamboo clearing just off the trail that brought us into the woods and made a small pile of my clothes and shoes. I left the underthings for last, stripping and phasing in one motion like I had practiced for years.

As I entered the mindspace, I could tell I was not alone.

_MMMMMMM stew. And cherry pie. I wish Bixie would bake one again._

_Fantasizing about food again, Quil? _I asked, laughter barely contained.

_Oh, Ephraim, if you could smell what the Whites are cooking tonight, you would start fantasizing too. I just started my patrol and I cannot get the smell out of my nose. And my fur. It is everywhere. _

I chuckled and then asked about his patrolling.

_Oh, it is fine,_ he thought. _Not much going on. I have gotten used to patrolling alone._

I could hear a complaint in his tone but I was not quite sure what it was about. _Quil, what do you mean?_

_Oh, you know. You get drafted and I have to patrol alone. You get married and I have to patrol alone. I am just starting to feel like a lone wolf out here. _

_Ah. Well, Quil those events were 17 years apart. _

_Yes, but I was patrolling the whole time._

_True, Quil. _I was silent for a moment, thinking and knowing he could hear all of my thoughts even if they were not directed at him. I could feel him getting excited.

_Seriously, Ephraim, just Bixie and I on a vacation? You sure you don't mind watching little Quil? How about two weeks? That should be long enough and by the time we leave Quil will be back in school so you would only have to deal with a 7-year-old in the evening and morning, and do you think Sally would mind?_

_No, I am sure Sally would be fine with it. Little Quil is her favorite nephew,_ I thought with a smile. The fir and cedars started to whiz past as he accelerated in excitement. His thoughts were moving even faster than he was. Soon he was bouncing off trees like he did when he was a new wolf.

_I feel like a new wolf,_ Quil thought. _I wonder where Bixie wants to go. Maybe Portland or San Francisco or Idaho._

_Don't take your wife to Idaho, Quil. She would not find that much of a vacation_. _Unless she likes the heat and a bread box camper trailer._

_Well, she does like to go camping, but I thinks she prefers the green trees. _Quil looked around quickly. He thought he could smell something, something painfully sweet. _Is that a Cullen? _He asked himself more than me. This smelled like watermelon and chocolate, but too sweet to be edible.

_No, not a Cullen_, I assured him.

He launched toward the smell, the cedars and firs whizzing past like a car view from a movie. The smell was definitely coming from the north and he slowed as he approached. Quil ducked behind a gathering of rhodendron and azalea bushes, just starting to lose their June flowers. The pink blooms had brown edges, showing their age. The cold one ran past the bush and Quil leaped behind him, only a few steps behind.

The cold one looked over his shoulder the sun peaking through trees and reflecting off his bald head, surprised to see a wolf chasing him. He doubled his speed, but Quil ran harder and tackled his back, ripping strips of hard flesh off with his sharp claws. The vampire landed on his face but flipped over before Quil could jump off. He threw Quil back, against a tree with a thud. Through Quil's eyes, I saw the cold one leap forward with both hands. I felt a loss of breath as Quil's windpipe was cut off. He scratched furiously, taking off strips of flesh from the vampire's chest and the vampire let go. Quil growled and launched himself at the vampire's face.

Oh no, I have left Quil all alone, I thought to myself. _Quick, try again_, I thought to Quil, but he was unable to get a good hold of any of the pale arms or head. Hate flashed red in the cold one's eyes and his hands were at Quil's throat again. His arms were long and very strong, even for a cold one. With one last violent squeeze, everything went black.

I stood in fourlegged silence, surrounded by green growing bamboo shoots and the distant smell of flowers. Alone in a way I had never hoped to be. I called out to Quil across the mindspace but there was no one to reply. I ran in circles, calling out to Quil, hoping he would gain consciousness soon. Dreading the maybes.

I dove into problem solving thoughts: someone needed to get to Quil. Cold ones did not seem to like the taste of Protector blood, but at least two had bitten one of us in battle. Since Quil lost consciousness, would the vampire leave him alone? Or try to destroy this creature that had attacked him?

I had to get to a phone. If he was still alive, maybe Levi could find him, help him. I started to run down the mountain, but felt strangely light. I looked down at my leg and remembered I had left my clothes in a pile, not planning to go anywhere. I flipped around and returned to the bamboo stand. I phased quickly. I folded my clothes tightly and wrapped them with my leather cord tightly around my ankle. My wallet made the whole bundle bulky, but it was a gift from Sally and I couldn't….

_Oh no, Sally. _I couldn't leave Quil injured and alone but I couldn't leave Sally alone either. My naked body was yanked back and for by conflicting allegiances for at least 30 seconds before I phased instantly and ran down the mountainside. Sally would be mad later, and she should be. But there was no one, human or otherwise, that would hurt Sally in the next few hours. She was at the end of a long trail and she had lunch. Quil had nothing.

I felt helpless and hopeless and those two emotions pushed me forward, to do something, to protect the Protector. There were thousands of miles between me and La Push. I had to run.

I saw a flicker of red across the mindspace and then it went black again. Quil was lying injured in the woods, stranded and unable to even wake up. Vulnerable to anything the cold one could imagine for him. He would probably not be tempted to drink from Quil, the smell insured that. Would he know that his bite is like poison to a wolf? Panic set in and my heart began to beat faster than I thought possible.

And then I could see through Quil's eyes again. The bald vampire was up a tree, unmoving.

I had lumbered closer to the city, so close the trees were thinning and giving way to houses. I froze to pay attention to what was happening.

_What _is _happening?_ came Quil's confused question.

_That cold one tried to choke you. Everything went black and now he is just sitting there in a tree._

_That's all I remember too._

"Are you ready to talk about this, like two men, or do you want to fight again?" the cold one said.

_Is he trying to have a conversation with me?_

_Yeah. I think he is._

"Look, I can tell you are not all animal in there_. _I have a biology degree and no wolf native to this region reaches the size you currently are. Plus none of them could scratch my back like that either. So, are you going to tell me what you are or not?"

I felt Quil's eyes get wide. _What should I do? Should I shake my head?_

_No, pretend you don't understand._

"Is it a Wolf Blood thing or a Werewolf in London thing? Ever since another vampire told me that real werewolves exist, I have been curious. Snuck into a few movies, borrowed a few books, hoping to run into one. And here you are. But you don't really look half-human to me. More like just a really big wolf. So maybe it is a different kind of magic. Are there other kinds of magic or just things like you and things like me?"

_Why is he still talking?_

_I don't know. I want to end this, but my head hurts. I can't even stand up yet._

_Don't try, then. Maybe inch away like an injured animal would._

"I almost killed you, you know. I could have done it too, but you have Boxie's ears. His ears used to poke up just like that. So I couldn't do it. I figured if I let you live, maybe you'd let me live."

Quil answered with silence.

"Anyway, it seems like you can't climb trees or you would have tried that already. So I guess I will just swing my way out of here." He jumped from one high branch to another. Quil followed him with his eyes.

_Should I stop him? What if he tells other people about me?_ Quil was understandably nervous and confused.

_I don't know._

The cold one swung out of sight. Quil leaped forward to chase him. He got to the highway, and lost sight of the running man. He stood under shelter of trees, sniffing, waiting, not wanting to turn his back on the bloodsucker.

_It's not really over until he is dead._

We stood in silence, a thousand miles separating us.

Then we saw a white blur. Too fast to react to. It was on the right side, then the left. Quil felt disoriented. Then a pain in his shoulder. One on his haunches. He collapsed in pain. The white streak stopped in front of him.

"You smell like an animal, but you taste human. Hope you don't mind the scientific experiment. I had to know. It was driving me crazy wondering what you are. Do the bites hurt?"

Quil growled quite unconsciously.

"Yes, I thought it might. Felt like a thousand burns for me. It was 30 years ago, but that is something you always remember, the pain." Sun glinted off his head and face. A terrible image.

I felt frozen with fear. There was no one to help Quil. These bites would be fatal.

"It will be cool to have a pet wolf. No vamps will mess with me after this. It's hard being all alone, you know. The boredom, the isolation. I always feel better surrounded by people or animals. That's why I went into Biology, you know. Wanted to be a veterinarian, even. But one unsuccessful feeding by a vampire, and all those plans changed. She was nice enough to hang around at first, to let me know what the rules are, but she was more of a loner herself and said that I talked too much, which I just don't understand at all."

His endless blather was getting on my nerves and filling Quil with hate.

_I just want to die in peace. But I can't lead him back to the village. Must…._

At that point Quil decided to save up his energy for fighting rather than thinking. He launched himself at the talking cold one and scratched his shoulders and bit his face. Large chunks of hard white flesh littered the ground. Before he could start talking again, Quil launched himself at the vampire again and turned his jaws to bit the vampire's head off. He collapsed in a heap of pain and satisfaction.

_Quil! I_ yelled across the mindspace. _I will go call Levi. Change to human form and he will come help you!_

I was at the bottom of the mountain, so I phased and pulled on my pants and shirt. I ran barefoot into town.

The public phone was different from my home telephone, but when I picked up the receiver, a voice with a familiar helpful tone answered.

"Extension, please."

"I need to connect to the mainland. Can you do that?"

"Yes, extention please," the woman on the line repeated.

"L2-159."

"State?"

"Washington."

"Hold, please." The seconds were driving me crazy. Each pause for new information meant Quil could be slipping further away.

The phone rang shrilly in my ear, once, then twice. Levi answered, "Hello?"

"Levi, Quil has been attacked, he is in the woods near Qa'al Stream. Hurry!"

"I'll go now," he managed to say before he hung up.

And then I was left alone again. Alone to wonder if Levi would be able to find him, alone to wonder if Quil would make it. How long could a Protector survive without oxygen? Surely less time than a cold one could squeeze. My heart froze in my chest and I knew it was over. I had failed to protect my pack and now I was alone.

But so was Sally. There was nothing else I could do for Quil. There was no way for Levi to call me back. I turned and jogged back to the shade of the palm and wiliwili trees. Once I was deep into the forest, I phased back and ran as fast as I could back up to the waterfall, stopping near the bamboo to phase back to my human form put on my shoes. I returned down the trail to Sally and her picnic lunch. I could smell ham and fresh pineapple slices.

Sally had covered the rock she was sitting on with a small plaid cloth. Her back was to the rock formation so she could see the waterfall as it dropped from over 100 feet above our rock. She had out sandwiches and pineapple chunks resting in the middle of a twisted wax paper square.

I was sure even my human eyes looked haunted. I felt empty and alone, even next to my Sally.

"The cruise ship made these," Sally said to explain the food. "I told them there were three of us going, so you can have two sandwiches."

"I'm not hungry."

She caught my mood. "Ephraim? Is everything all right? What happened on your hike?"

I looked at Sally with wild eyes. "We have to go. Back to the ship."

She was confused and frozen. I started cleaning up the lunch things, quickly.

"But why? Ephraim, what happened? Are you hurt? What did you see?"

"Quil is hurt."

Her eyes grew wide and there were a million more questions in her eyes but she put them off, helping me stuff things back into the rucksack. I grabbed her hand and took off running down the trail. She stumbled and almost fell. I slowed for a second, then carefully picked her up and then accelerated again. Two legs are not as fast for me as four are, but the trees started to blur just slightly as I rushed back down the trail. I ran the last two miles quickly and reached the parking lot.

The bus took too long to get there and too long to get back down the mountain. We were alone with the driver, and as the first public phone came into view, I almost jumped out of my seat.

"Could I get out here?" I said, not controlling the panic in my voice at all. The driver looked confused but pulled into the nearest parking lot. I pulled open the door and almost closed it on Sally's head as she tried followed me out.

"No," I insisted. "Go back to the boat. I'll be there soon."

Then I saw the second worst thing I had seen that day. Tears welled up in Sally's eyes and she sunk back into the seat. I leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the lips and closed the door behind her.

I hung up and dug into my pockets again for some coins. "L2-159, please. In Washington State." The phone rang and then Ruth picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Ruth, is your father back? I really need to talk to him."

"No, he said he had an errand to run for you. How is your honeymoon? Do you like the cruise? How is Sally? Can I talk to her?

"No, she's not here. I just need to talk to Levi."

"But where is she?" Ruth asked. My panic was contagious.

"She's fine she's at the ship. I just need to talk to Levi," I insisted again.

"Well, I can't just make him appear, you know, Ephraim. You will just have to wait until he comes back so you might as well tell me about the cruise," said my mother-in-law.

I sighed in frustration. It had been too long since Quil had been bitten and it would be getting dark in La Push. If Levi didn't find him soon…

"Ephraim, did you hear me? I said my father is coming in now, do you still want to talk to him?"

"Yes, Ruth," I said. I waited through excruciating seconds of silence and then Levi came on.

"He's gone, Ephraim. The cold one bit him; I brought him home, but only to bury him. Quil is dead."

The phone dropped from my hand and bounced on its metal ringed cord.

Quileute words used as names:

Qa'al ….. three


	13. Chapter 13

**May 30, 1944**

**Levi died of old age a few days ago. The Cullens are moving. I am not sure I can do it all**.

I ran. I ran to escape and I ran to hide. But there was a child holding tight to my fur. I was too tired and drained to say no again.

I had been running from Levi's funeral. Sally was helping her mother and grandmother clean up from all the mourners. I took Ray with me, his chubby three year old hand tucked into my own. His big sister was five and old enough to help the women. But a three year old boy was as useless as the man's childhood friend. So I had held his hand until we got to the middle of the woods behind my house.

The woods had become his playpace. I took Ray fishing and even at three he enjoyed the wide open ocean. But the woods, where he could hide and gather rocks and leaves, was his favorite place.

I had never taken on the wolf form in front of him, but I could not stand the human emotions anymore.

"Do you want to see something neat? There is a big doggie around here that you can ride like a horsie. Would you like that?" I asked my son. He nodded his head and I was sure visions of his radio hero Roy Rogers raced through his head.

I hid behind a bush, left my black suit in a neat pile, tucked my underthings to my ankle and phased. I had learned never to phase without them. I came out from the other side of the bush slowly, careful not to scare little Ray. I approached him, my head down so he could see my eyes and not my teeth. His eyes reflected my own brown depth, but they were big with excitement. His little hands grabbed my fur near my leg and tried to climb up. I knelt down, leaning one shoulder almost to the ground and up he went.

In wolf form, the pain was less, I did not have to think about how unfair it was that Levi died and I survived. He was smarter and faster than me. He left behind a large loving family. Whereas I only had three. Yes, he had aged and his family did not seem surprised by his death, but none of it seemed fair. So I let the wolf in me free. I ran slower than normal, not wanting to hurt Ray, but fast enough to forget about Levi and the whole horrible mess that death leaves behind. Sure he was older, sure the doctor said it was old age and I suppose some people would say it was only expected, but I did not expect it.

"Yeehaw," Ray shouted as he held on with only one hand. I smiled and shook my head. The afternoon sun was warm on my fur, bright pockets heating my cold heart as I ran through the crowded forest. Trees and summer flowers popped up as I ran, the scene changing with my speed.

Then I smelled it. A vampire. The hair on my neck bristled and I snarled instinctually. I felt Ray's second hand grasp at my shoulder fur and his head was down on my neck. "It's OK, dog horsie. It's ok," he said.

But it was not ok. I was in the woods again with a son and I ran into a cold one. Several cold ones, I corrected myself, smelling them better now as we approached. The anger rolled over me like a tidal wave and I exploded forward, faster than was safe for my rider. Ray squealed in delight, then yelled, "Whoa." I caught myself and stopped, shocked that I had run so fast with him on my back.

I put my head down and took a deep breath. Then I tilted my shoulder and slid him off. I could smell even better now as I concentrated on the scent and realized it was the Cullens. Rosalie and Edward, although only Rosalie was very close. I placed my chin on top of Ray's head and indicated down, making him sit in his spot. He sat and looked up at me, confused that the ride had ended so abruptly. I trotted back a few yards behind a grove of cedar trees and changed back to my human form. I slipped into my undershirt and loose undershorts.

Ray was sitting on the ground where I had left him. I could hear someone rushing toward us still several hundred yards away. We were in no-man's land, the area we were allowed to patrol to keep the Cullens away from our land. Ray looked up at me, surprised to see me.

"Daddy, I liked that doggy," he said excitedly.

I smiled at him, with only my mouth, "Yes, I know. Shall we go home now?" I couldn't leave him alone no matter how badly I wanted to know what the Cullens were doing so close to the border.

"No, please stay. We need to talk," I could hear Edward's hiss on the wind. I knew it was too quiet for Ray to hear though. The whispering hiss continued, "We will not hurt your boy we just need to tell you something." Even his voice made my hair stand up on the back of my neck. I growled unthinkingly.

Ray looked up at me in confusion. The beargrass was almost as tall as he was and covered his head when he sat. The puffy white bunches of flowers poked up all over the place, like a layer of splotchy icing. I tried to assure Ray that everyone was fine even though I could use some reassuring myself. "Daddy needs to talk to some old…. You need to stay here." I couldn't finish any sentence the way I wanted to. Certainly not friends, but I can't tell a three-year-old that our immortal enemies just want to have a chat with his father. "Could you pull out some of this grass? Grandma Sarah and Grandma Ruth can use it to make baskets. Get lots of long ones." I crouched to show him how to pull up the grass, bending and twisting it in his chubby hands. My nose started to burn and I stood up to find the cold ones.

Edward was at the edge of the trees, just 20 feet in front of me. Rosalie was behind him, hidden in the shade and leaning against a tree. Her hair was pulled tight above her ears with large bangs and large curls hanging in precision on her shoulders. Her suit was professional looking, navy and wide shouldered. Edward was in a gray pinstriped suit. Not quite forest wear.

The irony caught Edward's lip too, so that he almost smiled. He motioned me forward and I took three steps forward and indicated I was close enough. Still closer to my son than to them.

"We are moving," he began. "We have been letting any others of our kind that we meet know that this is our territory, so hopefully you will experience some peace even without us here."

_You haven't kept them all away_, I thought, thinking specifically of the nomad Quil had to kill while I was in Hawaii.

He was surprised, but he let out a shallow hiss at my ingratitude. I thought then of the tragedy of Quil's death and the hissing stop. It was not his place to apologize, but he had manners enough to not be irritated anymore.

"We will be out of the state by Thursday, two days from now. We will let you know if we ever return."

_Sure, give us a call. Wolf Protectors: it's in the phone directory._

He gave me a deadpan look and Rosalie glared at me. Then they turned and left. I waited until I could no longer see or hear their running through the woods before I turned back toward Ray. His bear grass pile was squished and short. I smiled and gathered him and his beargrass in one swoop and headed back to La Push.

Although Levi had not patrolled in wolf form for decades, it was comforting to have another members of our pack to bring up questions of safety and procedure with. I could see why the village chose a tribal council organization ten years ago instead of continuing with a sole chief. Now I was the only Protector and I felt alone and weak.

I wanted to have a chat with Quil, but he was gone. My father, gone. Levi, gone.

Ray and I returned to the cemetery. It was the only place I could come for answers now. As I came into view of the graves, I saw Little Quil and Bixie just leaving. My arms were full of Ray and beargrass. I begged with my eyes and Bixie understood.

"Ray, would you like to come and play with Little Quil? He still has some homework to do for tomorrow. In seventh grade they study all about animals. Do you want to see?" She extended her hand and my son padded beside her, trusting hand grabbing her finger. Her black and white hair was braided in two even lines running down her back. The three of them headed back towards the village.

Quil's grave was across the stones and graves from Levi's which made this meeting easier. I was not ready to talk to Levi yet, but I needed to talk to Quil.

"I met the Cullens in the woods just now." I waited in silence while my words sunk in.

"They are moving. So I can start patrolling the old area again in about two days." I closed my eyes and waited.

My mind sought back to other conversations. I had wondered about some things.

"I can't help but notice you never take Little Quil out hunting. Only fishing. There are not many cold ones on the ocean."

"Ephraim," his patience had worn thin and squashed his usual sense of humor, "Surely you have noticed I am not the only one. Levi never took his boys out either and most of our cousins prefer fishing anyway. Sometimes I think us wolves are the only ones in the woods at all."

I sighed.

If he had been here that is what he would have told me.

"Besides," Quil continued in my memory, "We can't even smell cold ones when they are in their cars driving by. The only vampires we are likely to find are those who are looking for animals like the Cullens."

"There _are_ no other vampires like the Cullens," I had replied.

"Well, with cars and trains and everything, we never find much on our patrols anyway."

My memory faded and I was left alone staring at two slabs of marble.

"I wish you were here to tell me what to do. I wish that one of your sons had…" I stopped that thought cold. One of Levi's sons had phased: George. But he was dead. They were all dead except me.

"I need someone else to help me protect. Someone else who can do what we did, who can become wolves and…"

I heard an intake of breath and a shuffling of feet. I turned my head and saw a lanky Little Quil standing near the edge of the cemetery.

"The wolf I rode was my dad. I always wondered…" His whispering voice was filled with awe.

I stood. I had been shaken from my meditation, my thinking and remembering. "Little Quil, the wolves are a secret. No one can know."

"I remember. That is what my dad told me, too. He just never told me that it was him."

I considered the possibilities, passing on information and stories to Little Quil just a little early. Afterall, he was the son of a Protector. He would change one day. His eyes were filled with questions and explanations of his own design.

"All right, Little Quil. What do you want to know?"

**June 9, 1944**

**Little Quil and Ray ran on patrol with me today.**

"But school is out. There is no reason why I shouldn't come with you," Little Quil begged, nearing a whine.

"I think you and I both know it was not school that kept you from running with me," I told him in no uncertain terms. His mother had made it clear to us both that she did not want Little Quil exposed to vampires now that he was nearing the age that it might actually affect him. Ray held onto my hand, looking up in confusion.

"You will need someone to watch Ray while you phase and who better than his favorite cousin. Right, Ray?"

Ray looked up at his hero, ten years his senior, and smiled a baby-toothed grin. "I like Quil. He's funny," Ray confirmed.

The look in Little Quil's face told me he thought that sealed the deal. "Your mother would not like this," I reminded him.

"Then I will be sure not to tell her." His logic was flawless, except that his mother would see right through him. But I needed him. He was right, Ray needed someone with him until he was old enough to understand that the wolf he rode and his Father were the same creature. The run-in with the Cullens painlessly taught me that. And I couldn't leave him behind. These two were my best hope for a new pack, I felt a desire to teach my son everything I could before he got older, and Little Quil knew it.

"All right, but the instant I sense anything wrong, I will swat your knee and you will take Ray and run home. Understood? Your mother would kill me if you met a vampire on one of these little runs of ours."

"Oh," Little Quil said hopefully with a sly look in his eye, "there will be more runs like this?" We stopped walking in a small clearing and I changed the subject.

"Just watch Ray for a few minutes, will you?" I crouched down to Ray's level, "Hey Ray. Do you want to ride the big doggie again? Stay right here by Little Quil, OK?"

He nodded his head fervently and I hid behind some young bristly fir trees to strip and phase.


	14. Chapter 14

Jacob stared at the crinkled journal pages and wondered what it would have been like to ride on the back of a wolf when he was a child. His life would have been different: full of secrets and understanding even before the possibility of becoming a wolf came to him. Would his life have been better or just more confusing. He wasn't sure, but he knew that he wanted to know more about his grandfather Ray and whether or not he ever got the chance to be a Wolf Protector. Jacob turned the page.

**August 6, 1960**

**Ray left for college. He never ran into a cold one and never phased.**

"But the Huskies won the Rose Bowl, Dad. It is a great college and I love football. Plus I have already registered and sent in my tuition money and maybe I will try out for the rowing team or track team," Ray explained again. He had spent a year working for the fishery in Forks and I thought he had found his vocation. Apparently not. My ancient blue truck chugged along the highway, its bed full of the boxes and suitcases that contained my son's life. He wanted to study history and I was driving him to the University of Washington in Seattle so he could.

"It's never too late to drive back home. You could always take classes closer to home."

"No, dad. I have already waited a year and they have the best history department around. You are just lucky I didn't decide to go to Berkeley. That's even farther away, you know," he smirked. I sighed.

I couldn't believe that just months after giving away his big sister June, I was driving my youngest to college. It made me feel sad. Old. I turned my thoughts to Sally. I would have her and our little house all to myself, I tried to convince myself that it would be enough.

The campus came into view and I was amazed at its sprawling size. There were bunches of thick trees lining the paths between the buildings and shading most of the parking lots. There was a large lake with a rowing team grunting and shouting in rhythm. The campus was larger than La Push, if you didn't count the outlying houses nestled in the woods.

I found a spot to park in the lot closest to his eight-story dorm/skyscraper. I let out a low whistle. "We could put eight of our houses into that thing," I said under my breath. I opened the door and filled my lungs with the hot Seattle air. The heat wave was the last sputter of summer, the last chance for sun before the clouds took their usual place in the sky. Tomorrow was looking to be even warmer.

I hesitated for a moment, then shut the door and met Ray at the back of the truck. He had chosen Terry-Lander Hall to be close to campus and to meet more people. There were a lot of people to meet. Already, young men and their parents were filing into the dormitory. They wore jeans and the multi-colored letter jackets of many different high schools. There were boys in ties and mothers in tears. There were girls with short hair and sweater sets matching flaring skirts. I grabbed the first load of Ray's belongings and led the way into the Hall. The lounge had carpet, couches and a spiral staircase. He stopped to check his room assignment one more time and then we rode the elevator up to his room.

There was already a clean cut boy there, each hair in its perfect place. He had a neat stack of books on the corner of the desk and a bed made up as though it had been in a hotel. Either he or his mother was very particular. Perhaps both.

"Hey, I am Ray. This is my…brother Ephraim. Do you care which bed I take?" We had been pretending to be brothers outside of the reservation for a few years. But he still hesitated and I still ached each time we used the word _brother_.

"John. As long as you don't take mine, I couldn't care less," the boy said, looking up from his book for only a second. Ray chose the bed closest to the window, leaving the third one empty for another roommate. We made several more trips and each time John ignored us. Finally the last item was in place.

We headed out to give ourselves a tour of the campus, starting with the 24 hour café in his dormitory. My eyes glazed over as I walked around the fifth of his new classrooms. This one was huge, with stadium seating for 200 and chalkboards that covered half the walls. I wondered what kind of boy this university would give me back when they were done with him. Would he be ready to help lead the tribe or would he never want to return to his ancestral home? I gave Ray one final hug and allowed him to shoo me away.

**March 28, 1964**

**La Push is in shambles. The boats and dock broke loose from the moorings and crashed up onto the beach. The waves reached above our door jams and everything is covered in seaweed and dried salt.**

I paced in front of my perfect old house. Sally and I had repainted it once Ray and June moved out, so it was a cheerful red color. She said that white paint was for old folks. I laughed and brushed the gray hairs away from her face. "You will never be an old folk," I assured her.

"No, you will never be an old folk, Ephraim. I am getting older everyday. In fact, the other day some of the teenagers called me 'Ray's old lady.'" The look she put on her face deepened the wrinkles that sprouted like beargrass from the edges of her eyes.

"That doesn't mean that you are old, it just means you are his mom. It's slang." I took her in my arms and tried to hug away her worries. It was Friday and we were waiting for our son to arrive. He had called from college and said he had a surprise for us and asked if he could come home for the weekend. He usually waited until school breaks, claiming that he needed weekends for studying. I knew something important must be going on if he was coming to town in the middle of the semester like this.

"Maybe I don't want to be his only 'old folk' parent," Sally continued, jarring me out of my thoughts and waiting posture. I turned to her aghast. She often surprised me like this, saying something she had never hinted at before. Was she saying she wanted me to stop phasing, to leave the tribe unprotected? My mind almost could not connect with the idea she had floated.

My eye caught Ray driving toward us. He rounded the corner in his 1953 Red Chevy, his bright shiny pride and joy, purchased from his own funds last summer. In the front seat with him was a girl with shoulder length black hair and a Hupa design hat on her head. Then I understood. The surprise was not a something, it was a someone.

I turned to Sally who was looking at me expectantly. "Can we talk about me aging later, after Ray has left?"

She hmphed and crossed her arms in front of her. "I am not going to forget," she warned me. I smiled and put my arm around her shoulder.

Ray skidded to a stop on the gravel in front of our house and met the girl at her door. She made a point of opening her own door and stepping out without his help. She took his hand in hers and they walked over to us.

"Mom, dad, this is Carol Allen."

Carol put out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Black." She was polite but not docile. She stood waiting for our response.

Sally ran up to hug Ray almost before he finished the introduction and he returned her hug and kissed her head. Sally hesitated for a moment as though trying to read Carol's intentions, then she hugged her as well. Carol was stiff, this was not a response she had planned for. I stepped forward and shook her hand. "Welcome to our home, Carol."

Sally ushered the pair into the house and started to plead for a moment or two to make the bed in June's room. "Oh, don't bother," Carol said. "I will be sleeping with Ray." She pushed forward, placing her bad on the edge of his bed and sitting down on it as though she had always been there. She removed her flat black shoes and her sweater-patterned socks. She wiggled her bare feet on the hardwood floor next to Ray's bed and looked up at me. It was hard to respond to such forcefulness.

Ray looked a little sheepish, but tried not to, setting his hard brown suitcase next to her tan and black duffle bag. I cleared my throat. "Would you guys like to settle in for a little while, or can we talk in the living room? We'd love to get to know Carol better," I asked. "Your mother has some smoked salmon and crackers for us as we talk."

I sat down on the heavily flowered couch and stared at the RCA Black and White, perched on four thin legs, sprawled out at deep angles. Sally retreated to the kitchen and returned with a white porcelain tray splayed with round crackers and pink fragmented meat.

I looked up at her, the hair that she had pulled back into a thick braid escaping so that it framed her face. She was backlit by the lamp and the subtle light seeping through the clouds. She put down the tray and a six pack and sat next to me, pulling my hand into her own. Her dress was not as nice as the one she preferred to receive guests in and I could tell she was a little uncomfortable, but the magenta stripes matched the magenta flowers in the wallpaper and I did not think she could possibly look more beautiful. I squeezed her hand reassuringly and she looked up at me darkly.

"I thought he was dating Lois, the blond one from Spokane."

"That was in November. He was dating Hazel in February. I think he just hasn't found what he is looking for yet. Not everyone is as lucky as me," I say, kissing her with gratitude. I did not expect this girlfriend to last either, although this was the first time he had allowed someone to share his room during a visit home. I always thought it was so gentlemanly of him, the way he would lead her to his sister's room and even open the door for her. But not Carol. She was definitely getting what she wanted.

Ray led her out to the living room, their fingers loosely touching at the tips, a comfort level which said I know you are not going anywhere but I want to touch you anyway. They sat on the loveseat that matched the couch and looked at us expectantly. "So how did you two meet?" I asked deciding that taking the bait was better than sitting in silence. I picked up a cracker and slipped it under some of the smoked salmon I had caught last summer with Quil and his boys. We had smoked them right on the beach the day we caught them and the salty flavor from the seawater filled my mouth.

"It was at the fish-in," Carol said and she also reached down for some salmon.

Ray must have noticed the confused look on my face, so he continued for her, "We were both at the fish-in protest Puyallup Bob did with Marlon Brando. We were both watching from the side when they got arrested. Carol bumped into me and I helped her back up."

"I could have gotten up myself, though." She looked at him with a twinkle in her eye and I knew she was teasing him in some way I did not quite grasp. "Then he said, 'Walking the edge of our comfortable earth, are you?' I knew that anyone who could quote William Stafford as though it was part of his own thought was someone worth getting to know better."

"We went out to dinner that night and I knew my life would be better with Carol in it."

She was an English major, at the university, but they had to go to Tacoma to run into each other. They laughed at the irony and her eyes twinkled, catching the light as the sun started to set.

"Are you Hupa? I noticed your hat," I commented.

"No, I am Makah on my mother's side and Puyallup on my father's side. I just like this hat," she said patting it softly.

After dinner, we settled back into the living room. Carol seemed to have an opinion on each subject we brought up. "T.R. says 'You must believe: a poem is a holy thing.' To me it is necessary, almost like a heartbeat."

"Who is T.R.?" I asked.

"Theodore Roethke, of course. He just died last year, but he was the best professor UW ever had."

"I don't think I have read a poem since I was in school. For me, the cedars and rhododendron are what is holy. Being surrounded by green and brown and the blue or gray sky is what keeps me going." I was not going to let some poetic phrasing dictate the reality I had come to understand. The trill of the Junco and the creeking of the crickets were the music to my soul, not words on a page.

"Perhaps that is because of your heritage. We often hear poetry in the world around us rather than in the words of the poets. But white people have to hear the beauty of nature through the poets' pen."

I couldn't get over the feeling that she was speaking from the perspective she didn't wholly believe - as though it was one of the several roles she took on, depending on the situation.

She continued, "Anna O. says that Indians and blacks are in the same boat and that we should respond with non-violent protest, too."

I took a swig from my can; it never made me drunk, or even buzzed, but having a few beers when company was over made the conversation go more smoothly. "Who is Anna O.?"

"She was in one of my history classes a few years ago. She went to school in Hawaii first and there the color of your skin doesn't matter. She said someday the whole country will be like Hawaii."

"My parents went to Hawaii for their honeymoon," Ray submitted.

"Well, it was a cruise really. Ephraim surprised me with it. We got to go to Hawaii and Australia and New Zealand. It was so beautiful. Do you want to see my scrapbook?" Sally asked. She jumped up to get it and Carol listened and then asked questions about how we were treated while we were there. I pulled Ray off to the kitchen with the excuse of cleaning up our drinks and getting some more.

"It's been a few months since you brought a girl home. Is she pregnant?"

"No, dad! She is on the pill," Ray said, incredulously.

"Well, remember things change once a woman is pregnant. You both have to change what you eat and her family will have some things to say about it too, I am sure."

"Dad, things are … changing. Marriage and pregnancy are not the goal for us. We want to make a difference and change the way things happen in our state. In our country. You and Uncle Quil shouldn't have to get a license to fish in our rivers and oceans. That is what I am thinking about, not marriage." Ray opened the fridge and pulled out two more beers.

He handed me one and I tapped it on the edge of the counter. He had no intention of returning to the reservation. I knew he could not be a wolf protector, but I thought maybe he would want to be on the tribal council at least. I sighed. I was alone as a protector and would be until Little Quil's son or my unborn grandson was old enough to phase. And they met a vampire. I was hoping it would happen and hoping it wouldn't.

Carol, Ray and Sally starting watching television about 9 pm, just in time for Sally's favorite show: The Twilight Zone. It wasn't about werewolves or vampires or ghosts or anything that actually could give her a nightmare. Instead it was darker, full of hate and confusion. A murderer put to death and the city that watched. They all went to bed afterwards and I slipped out for one last patrol before bedtime.

The woods were dark and only the waning moon lit the trees as I ran quickly in my wolf form. I had not even smelt a vampire the first ten years after the Cullens left. I wondered what the Cullens had told others to leave this area alone. I knew the treaty forbade them from telling anyone about us but maybe they had just vaguely said there was nothing there worth hunting or that it was their own private domain. Something. I had run across a trail or two since then, but never a vampire.

I turned back towards the village and noticed a faint roar coming from the ocean. The noisy night animals hushed to an eerie silence. The roar got louder and I fought against my human instincts and ran toward the sound. When I got to the beach, I could see it coming: a huge tidal wave looming toward La Push, sucking in all the waves in front of it and growing like a mushroom.

We had no siren, no bell system to alert people. I wondered how close to the houses perched on the edge of the beachgrass this wave would reach. During most winter storms, several houses here on the beach have waves almost reaching their doors. A tidal wave large enough could lift couches off of floors and perhaps even shift houses off foundations. I phased to human form and slipped on my shorts. I ran to the Payne's house and knocked roughly. The tribal councilman opened the door with anger, then fear.

"What is it Ephraim?" he blurted out.

"Tidal wave is coming. It looks like a big one. We have got to get to higher ground." I turned and ran south, toward my house. "Warn the north end of the beach," I yelled over my shoulder.

That night, the tidal wave crashed on the beach over and over. Four times we thought the worst of it was over and then the ocean would recede and then the waves crashed down again. Boats were ripped from their moorings and thrown onto the beach, one destroyed the side of the Uley's house. The dock was ripped to pieces and cars were lifted up and thrown down again as though by a grumpy child.

The tribal school was on higher ground so everyone with a house on the beachfront gathered to the school. The Mr. Payne and the principal Mr. Clearwater directed people to spread out in family groups in the cafeteria. Children were crying, wondering why they were out of bed in the middle of the night.

Ray introduced Carol to his friends and cousins and the two of them sat down, soothing five-year-olds and borrowing books from the library to read goodnight stories. The waves crashed every once in a while, jarring the ears of everyone in the school and making the windows shake. Carol held tight to Quil's grandson and I could see why my son had chosen her. She was kind and fierce, loving and stubborn. She was determined to make life better for as many people as she could. I decided I could live with that.

**January 5, 1970**

**I killed a cold one while Billy was at school. **

Billy kicked the rock in the pathway and slowed his feet to kick it again. He was walking slower than I thought possible for anyone, even a five-year-old. "Come on, Billy, you are going to be late if you don't hurry," Grandma Sally said.

Billy pushed out his lower lip and hung his head. He didn't want to be late but he didn't want to go to school either. I reached down and took his hand in mine. He had spent all of Christmas vacation at our house while his parents made a stand with some other Indians on Alcatraz. It had been almost a month now, and I was pretty sure nothing would come of it. But Carol thought there was a chance they could "rebuild Indian cultures and political alliances" or something like that.

Ray and Carol had moved to La Push after spending the first three years of their married life on the Makah Reservation. It was closer to the University up there and Ray had one more semester when they married. They had stayed in our house for a month before Billy was born, because Carol said Sally was more nurturing than her own mother. Billy was born in La Push and after a few weeks they moved back to live with the Makahs. Now that my son had come home and brought my grandson, I felt like my life had started over again. I spent a lot of time in the woods with Billy since his parents had left. It rained nearly everyday, but his yellow raincoat with big metal buckles and the silly lighthouse keeper hat he wore kept the rain off. I showed him how to dig ferns and roots and when the storms got too fierce we went to Uncle Quil's house to make nets and repair baskets. It didn't seem that I would be getting any more grandchildren anytime soon, so I was determined to teach Billy everything I knew.

And I meant everything. He went on patrols with me, and unlike my son, Billy knew me despite my wolf form. He called me Grandpa Wolf when I took the form and he rode on my back as though he had done it all his life. His parents let him join us on the beach for a bonfire and myth telling right after he started school and his eyes got so big the fire reflecting in them threatened to consume his face.

"Grandpa, is that a true story?" I looked at him in confusion, stopping the dig for roots for a second. "The one about the cold ones?"

"What do you think, Billy?" unable to tell him the truth without breaking the treaty but unwilling to lie to him either.

"I think it is and I think you killed some when you were a wolf." He started jumping around, showing me how he would jump on a cold one and growling like a cub.

I smiled at him. He understood more about the myths than other children his age. Perhaps it was a gift from his ancestors or a connection to his fathers that would manifest itself in transformation someday. Part of me hoped.

But there would be no more daytime rides on Grandpa Wolf this week. School was back in session and Billy would rather it was not.

Grandma Sally gave him a kiss on the cheek and he quickly wiped it off. "I will wave at you when I get there," he said ten feet from the door of the school. He ran up the stairs, then turned and waved as though he was leaving on a journey. We waved back until he turned and yelled out for a friend. "Hey Harry, wait for me."

I turned Sally around and we headed home. As much as I loved having Billy stay with us, I had started to miss the silence that falls over us when Sally and I are together. I squeezed her hand and she looked up at me, knowing what I was thinking. She quickened her step slightly to get home a little faster and I lengthened my stride to join her.

I lounged around the house in the morning and decided to wait until after lunch to go on a patrol. So with a full belly I phased and jumped over the skeletonized bushes waiting for the leaves of spring. The rain stopped, but the clouds remained, knitting in every human below. I paused at the 101, peering and hearing until the highway was clear, then I leapt across and began to run across the Olympic National Park. I avoided the visitors' centers and pushed out to the edge of the park, smelling for any hint of a cold one.

At Lake Cushman, I smelled it. Thimbleberries too sweet to eat mixed with roses too strong to enjoy. The painful smell wafted past me on the wind and I turned my head to face it. I guessed the vampire was a hundred feet away, but I could not see it. I edged slowly and silently forward and could see a row of tiny houses set up along a dock on the other side of the lake. I looked upwind and saw the cold one mimicking my position farther up, crouched down an peering at the houses. He had flaming red hair cut short against his head, perfectly even on every side. He was dressed in a tight longsleeved creamy yellow turtleneck, dark jeans and an old belt. He was almost as tall as I was. I froze. Any movement would give me away.

He started moving toward me, down the hill toward the houses near the lake. I couldn't let him get there and I couldn't let him get past me and downwind. I knew timing was everything. I waited, motionless until he was within reach of a pounce. I jumped and knocked him down, setting us both rolling down the cliff side. I snarled and ripped at his face and head. We tumbled further, but he was silent and in pieces. His body crashed into a moss covered hemlock tree.

I ripped off his arms and legs, teeth on shoulders and thighs, then phased and slipped on my shorts. I felt in my pocket, but it was empty. I had nothing to start a fire with. I looked around. The needles and grass and mossy rocks were soaking in this morning's rain. My father's two stick method would not work.

I put forward a tentative finger and reached into the pocket of his now tattered pocket. There I found what I had hoped for: two dollars tucked in a wrinkled wallet. The stench on them was awful. But I could not let him try to reform himself, so I slipped the armless turtleneck over his headless neck and put it on myself. I chokes at the smell so close to my nose. I considered holding my breath, but I knew that would make it all the worse once I did breathe. Instead, I breathed through my mouth, tasting the sweetness instead of smelling it. I pushed the head a little further away, and I let gravity take me down the hills and mountains to the lake where the houses were. My legs and arms moved more quickly than usual, jerked around by gravity like a rag doll.

I crashed out into a clearing and approached the water, following it around through the low leafy kinnikkinnik bushes still green in January, but missing their bright red berries and salal plants equally bare. My feet were wet and muddy from walking in the sloshy edges of the lake when I reached the first residence on the curve of the lake. It was a cabin made with logs, each eight inches of the house was curved and filled in tight.

I could hear the clang of silverware against a pan and the splash of a sink full of water. I stepped over the thin fence, unable to keep out even deer or rabbits, and knocked on the door. A surprised woman answered the door with a baby in her arms.

"I am sorry to bother you," said the stranger in a ripped turtleneck and shorts, "Could I perhaps buy some matches off you? Mine got all wet." I held my hand out, palm up with one of the folded dollars in it.

She was startled, but said, "sure." She left the door open and returned in a moment with a small matchbook in her hand. It was white with a colorful carousel printed on the front. A souvenir pack from a vacation. The woman dropped it in my hand and shifted the baby, chubby hand in chubby mouth, to the other hip. She began to close the door, without taking the dollar. I picked up the matchbook and held the dollar out with my other hand.

"Please, I insist. I really appreciate it." I held my hand still until she took it.

"Thank you," she said quietly and closed the door tightly.

I turned and headed back over the fence, past the now familiar but bare berry bushes and leaped over a small green creek. The smell of the cold one filled my senses again and I turned up the hill, and climbed as quickly as my bare human feet could take me.

The pile of the red-headed vampire had shifted since I had left. An arm had reattached and the head had rolled three feet closer to the pile of white stony body parts. I gathered the driest needles and branches I could and tore out a thin gray match. Soon the flames and thick purple smoke took over the pile. I gathered up the head and plunked it into the fire. I stripped off the stinky shirt and threw it in the fire as well. Then I stepped back and slouched against a fir tree until the cold one burned out.


	15. Chapter 15

**July 12, 1970**

**Killed a vampire but her mate got away.**

"Grandpa, can we have Harry over tomorrow?" Billy looked up at me with his deep brown eyes.

"Why?" Doting grandfather or not, the boy had to have a reason before we could just invite a friend over.

"Because I haven't seen him in twenty hundred days," his illogical reason came.

I smiled my grandfatherly smile. "Actually, Billy, it has only been a week since school got out. I am sure his mother is not willing to give him up quite yet."

"Pleeeeeeeeeeease?" He held his hands together and squeezed them up to me, his eyes squinting in desperation.

"Fine, I will ask his mother, but she will probably say no," I warned him.

But she didn't. She was so willing, she walked him over to our house with a backpack full of clothes and her other two in tow before we could even have lunch. "You can bring him home tomorrow. Or Sunday. I am easy," she said as she hitched the toddler higher on her hip and reached out for the seven-year-old's hand. She turned around, her sandaled feet sticking out under her long gingham dress and returned to her home. Billy ran toward his room, Harry close on his heels, their arms pumping in an effort to go faster. I stood behind Sally on the couch while she sorted and darned the socks.

"How long do you think they will play before they need something?" I mused.

"I give them 20 minutes, tops," she answered. I got my Winchester out of the gun cabinet and relocked it, then sat down in the chair facing her and started to wipe and clean the gun. Back and forth. Inside and out. It had almost been twenty minutes when the running of young feet could be heard coming down the hall toward the living room.

"Grandpa, grandpa, will you make us a fort?" They said together, the words mumbled together. Harry was Billy's second cousin and although I was technically his great uncle, he called me grandpa since Billy did

"Sure," I replied as I replaced my gun and allowed myself to be dragged back into the room that had been my room, Ray's, and now Billy's. They had pulled all the blankets and sheets off the bed and piled them next to his dresser. I scooped up the faded cowboy sheet and tied a knot around the bedknob. The other end I closed into the top drawer and pulled it tight until I could tie the end on a chair. The triangular shape left one corner to dangle down like a door. The boys were delighted and ducked under the sheet, imaginations firmly in place.

When I returned to the living room, Sally was in the kitchen making lunch. I scooted in to help her butter bread and layer it with cheese and ham. My hand brushed hers as I reached for the lettuce, and I thought about how lucky I was to have her in my life. She was the perfect woman for me. Yes, wolves scared her, but that just meant I reined in that part of me. Had I been with someone who liked the wolf form, I would not have been as human as I am because of Sally.

Sandwich or no, my thoughts had brought me to a place where I no longer cared about lettuce. I slipped behind her and wrapped my arms around her stomach, soft and mine. I bent over and kissed her hair as it shifted around her shoulders. Then I kissed her ear, sucking it slightly before kissing her neck. She flipped over, knife in one hand, buttered bread in the other and kissed me on the mouth. First hard, and needing. Then soft and deep.

I couldn't read her mind, never knew what she would say to me, but this I always knew. The need that bounded between our bodies when I came out of my own thoughts enough to touch her and to hold her. I knew that she was mine and would be forever. There would be no life for me after Sally died, of that I was sure.

I felt a tear slip out of my eye and felt it roll down my cheek. I closed my eyes tighter, willing her to never leave me. Her kisses stopped and she pulled away. She used the thumb of her right hand to sweep away my tear, kissing my cheek where it had been. Her eyes pleaded with mine, quizzing me.

"I love you, Sally."

"I love you too, Ephraim. Go get the boys. Lunch is ready." She turned back to her sandwiches and I kissed her hair once more and retreated to Fort Bedroom.

After lunch we decided to take the boys to the beach. The clouds were thick in places, but every once in a while a bit of sun would peek through the clouds, it was a perfect day for pebble and clam collecting. Ray and Carol got home after lunch, too. Fridays were their short days at the tribal office. Although I was not quite sure what they did there, I knew it required a lot of paperwork. They told us to go on ahead to the beach and they would join us in a little while. I helped the boys find the buckets and shovels and Sally found them each a jacket to put on. The wind was blowing fresh and crisp and for a child that meant cold.

The occasional sun had warmed the sand just a little and the wind blew wrinkles across my button-up shirt. It played with Sally's skirt, revealing her knees until she threw it back down. Harry and Billy ran ahead, chasing each other toward the water.

"No getting wet!" Sally yelled. The water was much too cold for swimming, although it looked like a dream. Thick navy water trimmed with frothy white edges. The sunlight caught on a few of the waves and made them glisten like diamonds. We were alone on the beach, as though it was our own personal paradise.

Sally and I followed after our grandson, admiring the rocks he found and holding them in a bucket for him. After an hour or so, the two young boys slunk down in the cool sand and starting pushing it together, making lumps on the beach. I spread out the striped towel Sally had slung over her shoulder and we sat down together.

Billy found a smooth rock. "This is the truck. And this is the road."

"I am making a road too, and it goes up this hill and over your house," Harry added with excitement.

"Hey, make your own house to drive on," he said. Then he laughed. "Make your own house to drive on." He thought that was funny and repeating it proved it to himself. Both boys laughed at Billy's joke. The salt and seaweed and gulls on the air wafted familiar scents into my nose. I knew the smells of my village and of my ocean like I knew my own name. I sighed and stretched my legs out in front of me, patting the sand absentmindedly. It was cooler than my hand and fell through my fingers.

I heard the crunching of rocks and sand as someone approached us. Sally and I turned our heads in synchronization and saw Carol and Ray approaching, his slacks and formal shirt exchanged for jeans and a t-shirt stretched tight over his expanding gut. Carol wore a pair of striped swinging Gaucho pants and a fringed tank top. She looked just like Billy as he approached the water: excited and wanting to wade.

He heard her coming too and jumped up to hug her legs.

"Hey, little man. Do you want to go kick the waves?" she asked as Sally looked on in disapproval.

"Sure, sure!" he said with enthusiasm. He kicked off his sandals and grabbed his mother's hand.

"We didn't bring a change of clothes," Sally said almost under her breath.

Carol grinned, showing all of her beautiful white teeth, "Oh, we will be fine. What is summer for but ocean wading and hot chocolate when we get home, right Billy?"

Harry looked up at Sally and me remorsefully, regretting having to ask us this question. "Can I go too?"

"Sure, sure," I said, not waiting to consult with the one who would want to say no.

"Oh sure, you let them wade, but who will have to make hot chocolate and draw a bath and clean up the bathroom floor when it gets covered with water and bubbles and…"

I interrupted her list of grandma duties. "They will only be young once. Let them enjoy it while they can." She harrumphed but I knew deep down she agreed.

I could smell them before I heard them. I could always smell them first. Thick sweetness burning and acidic. Maple and lemons and violets, too sweet to be pleasant. I looked down the beach, to the south where the driftwood gathered in piles like bones in a butcher shop. There were two of them, holding hands and walking casually as though the beach belonged to them. They were a matched set: both blonde and beautiful and both more deadly than my family could know.

The hair raised on the back of my neck within an instant. I could hear the crunching of the rocks, the sand, the whitened twigs being crushed under their feet.

"Sally, you guys need to go back to the house, now." I looked at her intensely, demanding. She looked at me with a question, but in an instant her sweet light brown eyes turned fearful. She could see people over my shoulder, did she know what they were and what it meant to our family? I was not sure, but I knew I was a lone wolf and I could not defend five people against two vampires. I needed to get them to safety, hide them so I could protect them.

I turned back to the cold ones and saw them approaching, walking calmly, but faster than a human could. "Leave calmly. Now." I stood slowly, reaching down to help my wife up. My voice was quiet, soon they would be able to hear me and that I did not want to risk them guessing that we feared them.

"Billy, Harry, it's time to go," Sally called. The wind caught her voice and silenced it. The boys continued to splash Carol, kicking the water droplets in the air while another wave lapped at their knees. "Boys! Come on!" She yelled louder this time, but Harry and Carol could not hear anything. Billy froze and turned his head slowly. He looked first at Sally and then to the south. He froze, as though the hair on his neck was standing on end as well. Sally looked frantic.

Billy reached up and pulled his mother's hand. "It's time to go, mommy, we need to go." Harry stopped, confused. Carol laughed and asked if Billy had to use the bathroom. "No, we need to go home," Billy insisted.

He started heading back to the beach, mother and friend in his trail. The sand held onto each foot as they trudged through the wet water-heavy sand.

Ray had wandered down the beach breathing deeply and enjoying the ocean air, but as he saw people gathering, he quickened his step to return to us. "Ray, take the family home, now," I said but had to repeat it again as he got closer.

I cast my eyes back to the south and saw the cold ones within 100 feet of us. I froze.

"Hello, there," the male called out in a musical, pseudo-cheerful voice. I stepped forward, placing myself in front of my family. Sally started to cry and Ray, confused, put his arm around her. Sally and I were the only ones who had ever seen a vampire. Carol was confused at our reactions and Ray looked like he had seen a ghost. Billy had his eyes narrowed. He was guessing. Always trying to figure out the answers. His black hair shifted in the wind.

The vampires came, walking at a slow pace toward my family. He wore a long tunic with white designs and blue jeans. She was wearing a longsleeved red and yellow flowered minidress that flung itself around her thighs as she walked. They both wore sunglasses, too dark to tell if they had fed recently or if they were hungry. Both options terrified me.

"This is tribal land. Did you need help finding your way off?" I decided to go with civil rather than violent in front of my family.

"No, we are just taking a walk. Lovely day for it, don't you think?" He answered. The nearest town to the south was over 40 miles away, past wildlife preserves and national park land. There was no way they were merely out for a leisurely stroll. Suddenly he pulled up his nose in disgust. He looked around quickly. "Where is your dog?"

"We don't have a dog," Billy answered behind me. His small voice cold. I continued to stare at the two cold ones in front of us. I remembered that look, the look of a vampire smelling the wolf inside of me.

"Look at you," the female said, stepping forward toward Billy. "You are so cute. I could just eat you up." She crouched down and her hand reached out to his tan face. She touched him for one second before everything exploded.

I didn't have the power to stop it, not even the thought that I should stop it. Pushing Billy back with one arm, I ripped through my clothes and phased into my wolf form. My paws swung forward and I clawed her face and shoulder, throwing her large rimmed sunglasses to the ground. My family shuddered backward and someone screamed. Several someones. I launched myself at her again and took off her head with a terrifying cracking sound: the sound of stone breaking. I looked up at him, the one who was with her. There was terror in his eyes and he turned and ran.

I am faster than most vampires. I knew catching this cold one would be no problem. Instinct took over and I began running on the dark sand. The driftwood and pebbles flashed below my feet. Thump, thump, thud, thud. My paws made a deep heartbeat noise on the sand. I was gaining on him, getting close enough to leap on him and tear his body into burnable pieces when suddenly he launched himself into the water. With unbelievable speed he began to swim and before I could even get wet he was a mile away.

His glasses floated in the shallows, shifting with a wave. I jumped into the water. Instinct and hate pulled at me to do my best. Better than my best, to do the necessary. But I could not keep up. He was under the water, not needing to breath, shooting out until I could no longer see him. I swam until he was out of sight, then turned and returned to the shore.

I could see my family, Sally sobbing on the sand, kneeling over, hands covering her face. Carol had dropped Harry's hand and was holding onto her son for dear life, as though he would vanish. I could see their silhouettes getting larger and I approached them. Ray was looking at the headless vampire, feeling there was something he was supposed to do next, but not remembering what it was. Harry's eyes were big. It was possible that as my sister Tob'ta's great-grandson, he would someday himself phase.

I pushed this from my mind as I reached the sand with my feet and ran toward them. Thump, thump, thud, thud. Billy pulled himself away from his mother's arms and yanked at the towel a few trembling feet stood on. He pushed his grandmother's leg slightly and succeeded. Before he could be stopped, he walked toward me.

"Here, Grandpa Wolf," he said offering it to me. He remembered I needed clothes when I was done being a wolf. There was still a lot to do, the cold one was still mostly in one piece. But I had a family that was confused and scared and they needed me. I phased into human form, my hair and body still soaking wet and salty. I uncrouched myself and I wrapped the towel around my waist. Slowly I looked up.

Sally was in pieces and she jumped toward me, tears streaming down her face. I rubbed her hair, sweeping my hand down the length of her back and held her. Her breath hitched in her lungs as she tried to stop the tears. "Shhhh, shhh, it's OK now."

She shook her head, unsure it would ever be alright again.

"So that was a cold one," Ray said in an even, still voice.

"Yes. Ray, bring your mother and family home. I need to clean up here."

"No! I won't leave you. Don't make me go," Sally begged.

I pulled her away from me enough to look into her light brown eyes, rimmed with red and soaked in tears. "I have to finish here, Sally, then I will be right home, I promise." I waited for her nod and then led her by the hand to our son. He took her under his arm and reached out for Carol's hand.

"Your campfire stories…." Carol said, not moving.

"They are all true." My voice hit like thunder. She swallowed slightly and took her husband's hand. She reached out for her son's hand, but he didn't move.

"I wanna help," Billy said.

"Me too," said Harry. I stood in silence for a moment, trying to come up with a plan, to decide what to do next.

Carol was not content to stand in silence. "So how many of these things have you killed?"

"I don't know," I replied, staring into the sand, "About 20?"

"How long have you been doing this?" It felt like Carol was interviewing me, as though this would show up in the newspaper tomorrow. I looked up into her eyes with all the intensity I could find.

"Carol, this is an absolute secret." I looked at Harry and Billy, too. My next words were addressed to all three of them. "No one can know there are Wolf Protectors in our tribe. Not our tribe, and certainly no one outside our tribe. Someday perhaps one of you boys will be a Wolf Protector, but you must always remember to keep it a secret." They nodded in consent and amazement. I continued, answering Carol's question, "I phased when I was a teenager and that was… in 1885." Her mouth dropped. "Wolf Protectors do not age," I said.

I looked up at the adults. Sally shook her head as her hands covered her face and her body vibrated with tears. Carol looked thoughtful and Ray was too worried about his mother to have noticed.

"You need to all get home. I will finish up here and be right behind you. I don't need any help." That last part was directed to my grandson who had pulled out his puppy eyes to beg to be allowed to stay. But the answer was no. The other cold one could come back at any time and the beach should be empty if it did.

Sally clung to our son as they trudged through the heavy sand back to our house. She looked so small, so frail. Her hair, striped with gray blew in the wind, slashing her face with black when she turned back to look at me. I waved slightly and decided to wait until she was out of sight before I phased again. Ray led his family past the Uley's new house and down the cement street toward our house.

At that moment, I heard a slight thump. The long blonde hair shifted as the head tried to find its body.

I faced the ocean and removed the towel, phasing to wolf form almost instantly. My thick brown fur covered me, my white tummy glistening in the sun as it peeked through the clouds for a second. I got to work. The arms and legs came off with four loud yanks with my mouth. I gathered the hard oozing white body parts, keeping the head separate for last.

I returned to the place I had dropped my towel and phased back to human form, gathering the towel around my waist.

I quickly found my pants, now shredded. The pocket was intact and as I slipped my hand into it I found the cold, square lighter I tried to always have with me.

I scooped up some pieces no bigger than my fingers and sprinkled them on the pile of red and yellow flowered cloth and white limbs. I crouched and lit the pile on fire. A familiar and thick purple smoke fed the clouds. It was a smell I associated with victory. But today is only reminded me that the pile of stone limbs was not as big as it should be. One had gotten away.

I kicked over to the head and picked it up by the hair. I dropped the head in the fire, her hair sizzled and shrank with the heat.

After a few hours, the cold one was a pile of ashes. I got up from the driftwood log and kicked at the pile with my bare foot, mixing the ash and the sand until it looked like a bonfire had occurred several days ago. I headed back home.

By the time I got home, Carol had given the boys their promised hot cocoa, then tucked them into bed. I sat down on the couch next to my sweet Sally. Her hair still long against her back, but braided in preparation for bedtime, the gray hairs racing like roads against the black forest. Her long blue nightgown wrapped around her legs, tucked under her body. She started to drift asleep as the radio played classical music written to make people tired. I picked her up, she was heavier than she once was, but still light as a feather to me. I laid her on our full sized bed and pulled the patchwork quilt she made out of her favorite clothes and the wool blanket we received at our wedding up around her body, tucking it below her chin. In the morning, I knew she would still be hesitant, but would feel better.

Ray and Carol were waiting for me in the living room when I returned. They were curled up on the other couch, her pants, still sandy on the edges, hung off the edge of the flowered upholstery. I brought out my leather journal, its cover dark and soft from wear. I quickly noted today's event and then closed it.

"So, dad," Ray said as soon as I sat down, "What are we going to do about the other one?"

These had been my thoughts all evening as well. I had no choice. I had to go out and patrol all along the edges of La Push, staying in the treeline while watching the coastline and staying out of the clotheslines. It had to be done.

"Well, I was going to make sure your mother stayed asleep and then go out and keep watch. I suspect he will come back. Cold ones are usually very protective of each other. He will try to get revenge, I am sure of that."

"Carol had an idea," Ray started and then looked at Carol to finish.

"I know it is not really any of my business, but you are going to be pretty tired if you try to go all night and all day until he decides to come back. Since we know he will probably come back via the water, why don't you let Big Quil and Ray take turns helping you patrol? They both know about Wolf Protectors already so you won't be breaking any secrets. They could take turns sitting on a chair on the beach. The tribe just bought new walkie talkies, so there are three or four old ones sitting in a box in the closet at work. I am sure no one would mind if we borrowed them. That way when you patrol the forest or do stuff with Sally, you could still know if anything is happening on the beach." She stopped to take a breath and even Ray looked surprised. I guess she hadn't yet told him her whole idea.

I sat thinking about it for a minute when I heard Sally scream. She was having a nightmare. I jumped up and rushed to her side, scooping her flailing body up in my arms and whispering in her ear. Finally she settled down, looked at me with her beautiful light brown eyes, wrinkled on the edges, and said, "Don't leave me."

"I won't. I'm here." I hushed her until I felt her relax back to sleep. I shifted our bodies until I was laying next to her. I heard shuffling and looked up. Ray was in the doorway. "OK. Call Big Quil." Once my friend and brother Quil had died, his son became Big Quil. They really liked the name Quil; his son was called Little Quil. "Tell him what happened. You two can split up the night duty. I don't think I am going anywhere tonight." Ray nodded his head and he was off. I could hear him on the large black telephone with the silver face arranging to meet Big Quil in an hour.

I heard them slip out and in a few minutes Carol stood at my door, knocking softly on the wood. "Ephraim, I brought you the walkie talkie." She edged closer and I removed my right hand from around Sally and felt the hard black plastic. "Push this button to talk. Ray said he would test it in a second." She let go of the walkie talkie and stood up.

I heard an irritating static and then my son's voice, "Alpha this is Beached Whale. Come in Alpha." Carol laughed at the surprise on my face, but quickly covered her mouth so she wouldn't wake up her mother-in-law.

The button was square and near the top. I pushed it with my thumb and heard a crackle before I began to talk, "This is Alpha. Beached Whale, you are crazy."

Ray's laughed echoed throughout the house. In a few seconds he was in the doorway, too. "Carol and I are going to take the first shift. We are too keyed up to sleep anyway. I will tell you when we reach the beach, then you should go to sleep. We'll let you know if we see anything out of the ordinary."

Silence fell around me as my son and his wife headed to the beach. I heard Billy mumble in his sleep. The refrigerator fan kicked on. I counted to 100 and it turned off again. I heard Ray and Carol's call on the walkie talkie, checking in. The beach was deserted. They sat down to wait. I relaxed myself one body part at a time and drifted off to sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

That was the last entry in Ephraim's handwriting. Jacob's blood ran cold. A new script started up, tight and urgent, as though it was used to writing too much in too little time. There were water spots on the page. A new script meant a new person. Jacob continued reading, too entranced to stop.

**July 15, 1970**

**This is Ray Tah-yat'l Black. I am Ephraim's second son, fourth child and a keeper of the Protector secret. I have finished reading this journal and needed to add to the record. I did not realize my father had been keeping a record like this for so long. I also did not understand its purpose until now. When I read it, something unexplainable happened. **

**As I finished each entry, I could suddenly see the entire scene my father had lived as though I was with him for every step of his life that he recorded. I ached at the death of his sister and rejoiced when Maggie agreed to marry him. My heart was torn out as I learned of her death and my half-siblings. I felt patriotic as he went to war and the joy and peace he felt when he first met my mother: a toddler of 18 months. I know the way his mind has been divided for decades now, hoping I would phase and join him as a Wolf Protector, but fearing it at the same time. Afraid that he would lose another child, another loved one.**

**Despite all the things my father recorded, this journal would not be complete without this entry. The cold one who had escaped from the beach returned to avenge his mate and my father was there on the beach to greet him. **

**I took several days off of work and I watched the water for hours at a time. Big Quil took some time off from his fishing business and Carol even took off a day because my mother had started to cry whenever she was in the house alone. My father patrolled the woods and along the beach at night. Finally, I saw him. A bright white dot on the ocean, swimming towards the shore. I called on the walkie-talkie and my father came down quickly. He insisted I stay behind the driftwood, far enough away that I was out of range and upwind. **

**My father waited for the cold one to come on dry land, he said he was outmatched in the water. The cold one came running like a locomotive and attempted to put his arms around the wolf that was my father. My father leaped out of the way and grabbed hold of the thing's right arm. He spit it away with such energy, that the cold one was even more infuriated. He threw himself at my father and dove, face first, onto his shoulder. My father roared with a terrifying sound I had never heard before: a wolf in pain. He quickly lashed out and with his last burst of energy, bit through the cold one's neck. Then he slunk to the ground. **

**By the time I reached him, his breathing was labored. I patted his head and he relaxed and the fur receded, leaving my father, strong, proud and dying. I covered him with my shirt and pulled out the lighter I had started carrying two nights before when he burned the female vampire. I remembered all the lessons he had taught me about making fires, from the forest rides on his back to the bonfires on the beach, and I made my first cold one fire. It sputtered and sizzled with a thick purple smoke.**

**I called to Big Quil on the walkie talkie and he came out to the beach. We carried my father home and laid him on his bed. The dawn was peeking through the window and it cast a bright light on him, highlighting the angry red line which shot toward his heart. He died with his hand in my mother's. She cried tears until her cheeks were raw and held his body until it grew cold. We held a funeral today. My mother refused to leave her room. It seems she cannot live without him.**

The handwriting changed again. This time, Jacob recognized his father's scrawl.

**January '90**

**My son has been born. Jacob Ephraim Black. **

**I got out grandfather's journal to write that, but now it feels like I should write more. My father Ray died last year. This book was among his things, I had never seen it before. The secrets our Wolf Protectors and their children must keep are staggering. We have been without wolves since my grandfather died and reading this journal I know why. **

**I met Sara at a concert in Seattle in 1983. She is Piti Ateara's youngest daughter. And now I understand that this is significant. When I introduced Sara to my father, his eyes got large and he was excited and terrified. We had twin girls who are two and now baby Jacob. If anyone of the upcoming generation has a chance to phase to a wolf form, it will be him. **

**September '03 **

**The Cullen family moved to Forks. Carlisle called the tribal council office and asked for Ephraim Black's phone number. He was given mine. He told me they intended to live there for at least 5 years and that they wanted the treaty to be in force. Old Quil (father called him Big Quil, but once his grandson was born, we started to call him Old Quil), Harry and I convinced the tribal elders that we should all avoid any place we know the Cullens might be: the hospital especially since Carlisle will be working there. Some of the younger ones thought this was foolish. They will not listen to our warnings. **

**Old Quil has started to have more bonfires than we have had in a while. He is encouraging all the children and parents to come listen to the legends. He convinced them that it is important to maintain our cultural identity. It may also be important to keep them alive, if they will only believe them to be the truth and not just myths.**

**April '05 **

**One of the Cullens is hanging out with Bella. Bella the daughter of my friend Charlie, the Police Chief in Forks. The same Bella who made mudpies with Jacob when they were young and hung around Rachel and Rebecca when the men went fishing. Charlie can't see how dangerous the Cullens are. I have warned him that 'Edward' is no good for his daughter, but Charlie just says to not be so prejudiced against people I do not know. But I know the arrogant boy better than Charlie will ever know him. **

**June '05**

**Sam Uley has disappeared. At first the tribe thought he had a fight with his girlfriend and had just run off, but Leah says they are fine. I am afraid he is a lone wolf somewhere, scared. None of us can communicate with him. Charlie put up posters, but I am afraid they will do no good since Sam no longer looks like himself.**

**July '05**

**We found Sam. It took Harry and me two days to talk him down so he could phase back to human. I am going to give him this journal once he recovers from the shock.**

After that, Sam's stark printed letters began. Jacob continued reading.

**Dec.1.2005**

**I'm not much for writing and this journal is pretty boring to me, but Billy acted like he knew more than what was written somehow. The Cullens moved, so none of it matters anyway, except that Jared and Paul joined me in the Wolf Protectors. We are waiting for Jacob and Quil, the youngest of the teenage descendants. **

**I imprinted on Emily.**

**Jan. 15.2006 **

**Embry Call is a Wolf Protector. We did not expect that one. No one will tell us who his father is**.

**Jan.26.2006**

**While we were jumping off the cliff near the beach to cool down from training, I saw Jacob drive by with the leechlover Bella. She looked thin and awful. He scowled at us. I am worried he is not making the kinds of decisions an Alpha would make.**

**Feb.21.2006**

**Jacob has joined the Wolf Protectors. I explained that since his Great-grandfather was the Alpha he should be, too. He got all flustered and then scowled and said I could still do it. I insisted he be the beta, at which point Paul got upset. He thought he was the beta.**

**Mar.4.2006**

**There was a vampire out in the woods today. He almost killed a human. Our pack took him down after a slight chase. He was no match for five of us.**

**Mar.7.2006**

**There is another vampire in the area, we have been chasing her, but we can never seem to catch her.**

**Mar.10.2006**

**Jacob thinks he is so clever, he really gets under my skin. He snuck off last night and gave Bella a ton of hints as to why he can't hang out with her anymore. He ignored my Alpha command. I am really afraid he is going to get hurt.**

**Mar.16.2006**

**Seth Clearwater is a Wolf Protector. And his sister Leah.**

**Mar.21.2006**

**After so long with no Cullens, they are back to stay. The treaty is back on. We pulled our patrols back. Each time one of us runs into one of them at a store or park, there is a greater chance another of our young teenagers will phase and join the Wolf Protectors. It makes me hate them all, the change is unrequested and inconvenient. **

**Jun.11.2006**

**There is a vampire army coming to Forks for Bella. We insist on helping to defend our land and people. The Cullens showed us some fighting examples tonight. **

**Jun.15.2006**

**We destroyed the vampires, with Cullen help. Jacob was injured, but is healing ok. Hopefully that will be the end of the vampire problems.**

The journal ended there, but Jacob knew the rest by heart. The vampires they killed, the patrols run and the challenges faced. Trying to destroy the Cullens and then defending them and the mystery fetus that was to become his Nessie. It was a history he had lived. The grubby leather cover curled over the edges of the cream pages.

Jacob put the journal back down into the chest, next to the folded white dress and the small pile of pink and blue baby clothes. He felt as though the entire 90 years of Ephraim's experience had been downloaded into his brain. It wobbled around a little bit and Jacob sat down on the edge of his father's bed, the wool blanket folded at the end and the blue and green quilt pulled up reaching the pillows. He knocked the lid with his elbow and the wood closed with a thud.

The clouds had taken over the sky and the bright light coming from the window held a muted white dignity. Jacob looked at the clock. It was dinner time. He was still alone in his father's house.

There was silence coming from the laundry room, so Jacob stood up and moved his laundry. He felt as though his body were moving solely out of habit, there was no direction coming from his brain at all. It reeled with the knowledge of the deaths Ephraim had witnessed, the joys he had lived, the treaty he made with the Cullens. The Cullens. The Blacks owed them a debt that his family could never repay. Twice Sally was saved by Carlisle. It overwhelmed him.

And there was more love. His great-grandfather lived and loved enough for two lifetimes. Sally had been his imprint but Maggie had been his best friend and Jacob could tell from the experiences he had with the journal that Ephraim had loved them both.

Jacob sat down on the couch and contemplated the lives Ephraim had lived and the paths he had taken.

The door slammed and Jacob jerked his head up to see Paul and Rachel laughing their way into the house. Ugh, he thought. The last thing he wanted right now was to be in their presence. Imprinted or not, it was just gross to see his sister kissing anyone, especially Paul.

He was up and out of the door before it could even close. He could hear yells of complaint behind him, but he would not stop. He started toward the beach, still in his dirty shorts. The clouds had returned and hung like icing over the ocean. Jacob sat down on the sand, too deep in thought to even find any driftwood. The journal had opened his eyes to things he had not supposed: things about love before imprinting and the deaths of friends and family. Jacob realized he had only an inkling of something, something he could chew over for the rest of his life.

The waves crashed endlessly, filling his mind with its rhythmic sound and the feel of the ground thumping under his paws in memory. Thumping under Ephraim's paws. Hearts and paws thumping in his memory as the waves crashed again and again. The endless ocean: ever changing and ever the same.

He threw himself up to his feet in one swift movement and rushed to the forest. He ran as fast as his two legs could carry him, back to the Cullen's house. He wanted all his thoughts to be his own, to stay on the tip of his mind for as long as he could. No animal instincts, no pack mindspace to confuse him. He leaped part way across the river and splashed through the rest of the way. He ran and took the porch steps in one leap. Without knocking he threw open the door, slamming it against the wall. The four vampires in the room turned to him, confusion in their eyes.

"Where is Carlisle?" he demanded. He felt a wave of confusion mixed with calm flow toward him.

"He is upstairs in the study, dear," Esme's sweet musical voice answered. She was standing near the door, rearranging some flowers. Jacob took a deep breath and for once did not shudder. The smell was still too sweet, but it was too sweet like eating a handful of sugar, nothing he hadn't tried when he was a child. Jacob reached out and took Esme in his arms.

"Thank you." He released her and sprinted up the stairs to Carlisle's office. Esme stood still, frozen in place.

Emmett started to laugh. "If I had known he was handing out hugs, I would have answered him myself," he teased. 

"Yeah, Rosalie would have loved that," Jasper replied from his spot on the couch where the two of them were competing, game controllers in hand, history lesson with Nessie long over. Jacob could hear their banter, but he was focused. He reached the study door and debated with himself for a half second before he flung the door against the wall.

Carlisile stood up from his desk and came around it, ready to hear whatever Jacob wanted to tell him. Jacob spotted the compassionate old vampire and with one long step, pulled him into his arms.

"Thank you, Carlisle. Thank you for saving Sally."

Carlisle's stone body was tense for an instant, pulled into a smelly hug so abruptly, but then he relaxed in understanding. He returned the young man's hug as a father would. After a moment, they pulled back and Carlisle looked him in the eye. "You are welcome. You and your tribe have more than paid us back. I owe my entire family's lives to you and your pack. We can never thank _you_ enough."

Satisfied, Jacob nodded his head once at the old doctor, then turned back to the stairs. He leaped over the banister, landed with a thud on the wood floor and ran out the back door to find Nessie. He had some stories he wanted to tell her.

Author's Note:

Ephraim's Journal has been nominated for a 2011 Faithful Shipper Award! Best Wolf Pack! Thanks guys.

Read other nominees here:

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